Ex Memoria
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, days 1722-... : While on a field trip, the Glee Club are concerned about Gemma, while in the future, a painting brings together Tina and Mike Chang together with the Doctor and the Ponds... - DW/G crossover #10
1. A Letter in the Night

_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 81st cycle. Now cycle 82!_

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**"Ex Memoria"  
****Doctor Who/Glee crossover #10  
Doctor Who: 11th Doctor, Amy/Rory  
Glee: New Directions**

**1. A Letter in the Night**

_May 2012 - Lima, Ohio_

A storm the week before had split the branch of the tree just outside Gemma's apartment window. Ever since then, it had been rapping at the pane whenever a good breeze caught on to it, which had been happening almost every night since then. It hadn't really bothered her or Walter, or kept them from sleeping. Mostly it had been an annoyance because they couldn't get anyone to take care of it.

But on this one night, the persistent tapping had finally succeeded in waking Gemma, which had managed to coincide with a delivery. Just as she'd looked over, she'd seen it, a disruption in the line of light under her door, coming from the hall. An envelope. There was only one person to come and leave her messages in this manner and at this hour.

Gemma hurried from her bed and dashed to the door, pulling it open and looking one way and the other down the hall. "Doct..." she half-called, but the hall was empty, silent. Disappointed, Gemma looked down, to the envelope left for her, and with nothing better to do, she picked it up, shut the door, and went back to the bed.

She could have left the thing there and waited until morning before opening it, but that had never been her way, so she tore the side and pulled out the pages inside. Even folded, she could see the print of the Doctor's fine handwriting.

"Gemma?" Walter mumbled at her side, and she looked back at him, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Go back to sleep," she insisted, but he just rubbed at his eyes, propped himself up on his elbows. He saw the envelope.

"What's that?"

"What do you think?" she tried to keep him from seeing too much. As much as he had been brought up to speed on a lot of what was happening, there was always the possibility that there would remain some things he was not meant to know about. He was never all that upset about that, and even now he didn't try too hard to read over her shoulder.

The Doctor had a way sometimes of being vague to the point of frustration, and then at other times she would be so direct that it felt like whiplash. This time, Gemma was glad for the near total darkness which, while barely allowing her to see the words on the page, kept Walter from seeing her face too well as she did read. If it hadn't been for that, he would have seen the expression of shock in her, the kind that sent one's head spinning.

"Gemma?" he spoke, and it startled her. "Hey..." he touched her arm. "What's wrong? What does it say?"

"Not... Nothing's wrong, I don't..."

"You're shaking," he pointed out. She hadn't noticed.

"Just a chill," she promised. "I thought I might have caught up with the Doctor, but she was already gone." This wasn't a lie, though it wasn't the truth either. All she needed was for it to be enough for him. "Go back to sleep, it's nothing, I swear," she reached for his hand and squeezed it, giving him a confident smile. Maybe it was just her luck that he had been exhausted when they'd turned in for the night, or he might have fought harder to stay awake and find out what was in that message.

Instead, he lay back down and went to sleep. She'd put the envelope aside and returned her head to the pillow, too, hoping it would help him to fall asleep faster, and she was almost sure it did. She could have felt bad for reaching for the envelope again and sneaking off to the bathroom as soon as she'd established that he was asleep again, but she was boiling up and she needed to splash water on her face before she got the chance to read that message all over again.

It didn't tell her specifically that she should burn the letter as soon as she was done with it, but it was almost implied. This was the kind of thing no one was supposed to know, and for a while she was left to wonder why the Doctor wouldn't simply try and tell her face to face, or send it into her thoughts, for all the effort that had taken. No one could know, not for a while, if ever at all. She wasn't even sure it would be prudent to tell Walter.

She hadn't known, and they could make her swear on her sister's head, or her parents' heads… She'd had no idea, and yet now that she did, she guessed it could have made sense. She had less trouble with that part. The part she did have trouble with was all that was implied because of it. In the long run, if no one knew about it but her, it wouldn't have to change anything for anyone. _So why did she have to tell me? Why did she let me know now?_

Was it that she knew how close they were getting to the end? Was the Doctor afraid she would back out for some reason? Did she need to give her a proper reason to keep going? She wasn't planning on backing down, not now, not when they'd all gotten so close, gone through so much… So why now? What if it messed too much with her head to know this? What if she made a mistake and ruined everything? _Or it could have nothing to do with it. It could be about something else entirely._ She had been needing some kind of answer about Walter… Was this it? Was this the Doctor's way of letting her what she should or shouldn't do? How was she ever going to be able to walk into that school with a straight face again? It had already been hard enough, but now…

"Gemma?" Walter's voice startled her from outside the door, and instinctively she ripped up letter and envelope both and dropped them in the toilet before flushing it down. Immediately she knew that was probably going to make for a mess of a clog, but there'd be no reading that message anymore.

"Yeah, I'm coming," she called through the door, sighing and looking at herself in the mirror, screwing her 'normal' face back on.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	2. The Art Of

_**A/N: *sigh* Again with the delays... stupid move... I will hopefully catch up tomorrow :)**_

**"Ex Memoria"**

**2. The Art Of**

_Chicago, Illinois – In the year 2021_

It was meant to be a proper treat for them, a gift on the occasion of their nuptials. That was what the Doctor had been calling it all day, and it was just shy of driving Amy mad. Nevertheless, after answering the call sent out to them, the idea had then become that they should do something just a tiny bit more pleasant. This had then led the Doctor to think of an exhibition in 2021 Chicago. The last time he'd gone to a museum with Amy had been especially marking on her, but he hoped this time around, with the restored Rory by her side, that she would make it a day to remember.

The Doctor stopped and doubled back, pointing to one painting with a smile and looking back to Amy and Rory with pride. "This is mine," he declared.

"You couldn't have," Rory frowned.

"Couldn't what?" the Doctor frowned back, mildly affronted.

"You didn't paint that," Rory pointed.

"Who said anything about painting it, I said it was mine. Look," he indicated a small sign on the wall next to the painting. The newlyweds leaned in to read it together, while the Doctor wandered off.

_On loan, with thanks, from the collection of Mr. John Smith…_

"1879?" Amy grabbed hold of Rory's arm to drag him along, trying to catch up to the Doctor.

"Funny story, there was an auction, which happened to be taking place on the very same spot where…"

He stopped so suddenly that the other two had nearly run right into him, only prevented as such by Amy still having a hold of Rory's arm and managing to pull him back. The Doctor had not noticed this in any way. His attention had been grabbed entirely by a panel advertising another section of the exhibition being to their left. Without so much as a word, he had forgotten the story he'd been in the midst of telling and, like a kid in a candy store, he was off again, leaving the other two to tag along as best they could.

They found themselves all three of them standing side by side, quietly observing one of the paintings. It was hard for Amy or Rory to look even remotely as fascinated as the Doctor was. Amy would smile to Rory, finding this amusing, and her new husband would briefly think the smile had been a sign of affection toward him. Once he understood, he tried to smile and nod back, though his enthusiasm wasn't bound to hold, and finally he went to see what other paintings were there for him to discover.

He came to stand in front of a square frame. On the canvas, the artist had depicted a couple running hand in hand, dashing from cover from the rain. It made him smile; the girl had something about her that reminded him of Amy.

As it happened, the moment he'd looked back to her, meaning to call her over, she'd been looking at him, too, so he signalled to her, and she came to see. He knew how much she could get into museums, and he really wanted at least one moment here that would be about the two of them, without the Doctor, so while he was busy elsewhere…

They'd only been observing the painting briefly, or it might have been minutes, but then the Doctor had rejoined them and come to stand between them.

Rory wasn't going to let it get to him. He would rise above it. He was here, in the near future, with his new wife, the girl he'd loved and waited for over countless years, and the painting made him happy. It wouldn't be this Time Lord to ruin it for him. He was going to look at that painting for as long as he meant to.

"Do you ever get sort of pulled in staring at those prints in waiting areas?" Amy asked the others as they walked off after having finished their run through the museum.

"They select those on purpose, you know?" Rory told her.

"It is sort of soothing," she admitted, then, "I'm starving. Where can we eat?" she asked the Doctor. She had been walking around the museum after leaving the painting Rory had liked, feeling so very at ease, and it took her a moment to see how perplexed the Doctor was looking. He still walked with them, but his mind might have been light years away. "Doctor?" she tried to call his attention. He turned to look at her, though he could still have been far off in his thoughts. "You wouldn't happen to know a special restaurant to go with this special exhibit?" she asked, pointing about.

"Well… as a matter of fact," the Doctor led them out toward the exit.

He needed to leave the museum. He needed to see what would happen, if the feeling inside him would pass once they left this place. He didn't know too well how to explain it just yet, but something told him their peaceful trip wasn't meant to remain as such. It might have been nothing, he might have been overreacting, but then when had he known an ignored hunch to lead to anything good?

Even if he hadn't been so caught up in this feeling, he probably wouldn't have made anything of the man and woman who'd walked into the museum just as he and Amy and Rory were walking out. It may have been that Mike and Tina Chang were still strangers to him, but he was no stranger to them, especially as he appeared now. They did not see him and the others as they exited any more than the Doctor did.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	3. A Weekend Outing

**"Ex Memoria"**

**3. A Weekend Outing**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

They had never known when it would come, or if it would come, though they had been betting on it for years, but that morning it had all changed. That morning, when Mike had gone out to get the mail, there had been the handwritten note, telling them both to come by the museum at a specific time. They had known right away who it had to be coming from, and Tina had practically been on the verge of leaving the house right then and there, but Mike had convinced her they needed to wait until the time indicated on the message. So they waited, and finally they went.

They hadn't known exactly what to expect, but then they'd have to know it when they saw it, right?

They ended up starting to make their way through the exhibit, for lack of a better thing to do. Maybe this would be where they came up on whatever it was they had to find. After a while, they were almost losing themselves into the various paintings on display and forgetting why they were actually there, which made it all the more startling when they came across a familiar face.

"Gemma?" Tina had blurted out the woman's name before turning to her husband with a silent question. He only shook his head, shrugged.

So they went up to her, sitting on a nearby bench and staring at them with a strange sort of smile. She got up, and after they'd stood there in the middle of the museum, staring at one another for a minute, Mike had been the one to break the ice and moved forward to hug the woman who'd once pretended to be a teacher at their school. Gemma had returned the embrace, and soon she'd parted from one Chang only to be taken in by the other.

"I didn't know it would be… well, you," Tina looked at her, at a loss for words.

"Is the Doctor…" Mike started to ask, pausing and looking around, now wondering if this was the best place to bring it up. But Gemma shook her head before he could go on.

"Not mine, but yours, the one you met in Ohio, he's here, with companions Amy and Rory."

"What about…" Tina started now, again cut off.

"This version of the Doctor is from before McKinley," Gemma revealed. "He won't know you, and it might be best not to mention how you already know him and why."

"Can't you tell him… something?" Tina asked.

"I can't," Gemma shook her head. "And that's part of the reason why I'm here now. I had to tell you, I won't be able to come back, not here, so you're on your own right now. Please… be careful."

"Okay, but what are we supposed to do?"

"You're in a museum," Gemma looked around, again with her strange smile. "Enjoy the art," she said.

They'd only just turned for a moment, following the sweep of her arm, but when they looked back to where she'd been standing, she was gone.

It took a couple of minutes before they could decide what they would do, but finally it just seemed like there was nothing else to do but to follow Gemma's instructions. They were supposed to go around and 'see the art,' so they would do that.

"John Smith?" Tina read off a sign, with a chuckle. It just sounded a bit fake.

"Look at this one," Mike walked her to another painting, showing a couple running in the rain.

There were a few others already standing by, staring dreamily at the piece, and as strange as it almost was, before long they were standing same as the others were, looking at the canvas with a fixed faraway look for what might have been minutes. When they moved away, it was with a blink, and if they chanced to look at their watches, they would show surprise at how much time had gone by.

Maybe it was that they knew somehow they had to be on the verge of running into the Doctor, but something about it all had felt strange to both of them, and though they didn't know what it was, they knew maybe there would be a reason for that. Something in this room was doing something it shouldn't be doing, and they had a good idea which one it was. They decided to sit, and wait, and see.

In sitting as they did, they were made able to reach some definite conclusions. It was natural that anyone who wandered through the exhibit would at the very least stop and take a look at each one of the items. That look may have lasted a few seconds, or a minute, but every one of them got their allotted time, so there had to be something else to differentiate any one from the rest. And there was.

Everyone who stopped in front of the painting of the couple in the rain had the same reaction, in almost freakishly synchronized sequence. It wasn't that the painting was anything particular, now that they looked at it from a distance. But those who went and stood before the painting would wander up, and they would look at it, and they would stop to stand in front of it, unmoving, for an entire nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds; Mike had clocked it.

They must have been sitting there, observing the passersby, for nearly an hour now, and they still couldn't get over it.

"What do you think it is?" Mike asked his wife.

"No idea," Tina admitted, but then smiled. "You know what this reminds me of?" He shook his head. "Remember that time Angela lost her keys at soccer practice? It rained so hard she was soaked to the bone by the time the neighbors let her in," she chuckled lightly. Mike frowned.

"Who's Angela?" he asked, having no idea who or what she was talking about. Tina stared at him for a moment, thinking, looking around.

"Angela?" she shook her head.

"You were just saying…"

"But she's…" Tina sat scouring her mind. In her head she could remember the event, clear as day, but as hard as she thought, she couldn't call up a single other recollection of the girl called Angela in her soccer uniform and blond ponytail. The strange thing was there were others around the room now, too, who were stopped in place with confusion in their eyes.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	4. One's Own & the Others

**"Ex Memoria"**

**4. One's Own & the Others**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

Standing in front of the building, no one had been as baffled by what they found as the Doctor. "I must have gotten the dates wrong," he told himself.

"Clearly you must," Amy agreed, as she looked on to the golden arches.

"I don't understand…" the Doctor kept on staring.

"There's a new one," Rory breathed, turning about. Maybe there was somewhere else they could go.

Soon after they were sat around a round table with a pizza box opened before them. Both Amy and Rory ate gladly, but the Doctor only sat in silence, dejected and pondering where he could have gone wrong. Then suddenly, Amy gasped and knocked the slice out of Rory's hands. He startled, looking at the slice, then at Amy, who was still staring at him with a sort of panic in her eyes.

"What'd you do that for?" he asked.

"The mushrooms, you're allergic, what are you thinking?" she asked back, her voice gone shrill.

"I'm not allergic to mushrooms," Rory frowned.

"Yes, you are, I can't believe they didn't keep those off," she tossed down her own slice in revolt. "Are you feeling alright? Should we go to the hospital?"

"Amy, I'm not allergic to mushrooms!" Rory persisted, but it was too late, and Amy had already flagged down a waiter.

"Excuse me, but he's allergic to mushrooms, and this has them," she pointed to the pizza.

"What, him, too?" the teenage boy blanched like he knew he was about to be fired. "I gave that table there yours by accident before and that woman almost bit my head off because her brother's allergic to mushrooms, too."

"I'm not allergic," Rory kept on promising. The boy stared at him, then at Amy. "I had them just the other day, remember? _The wedding?_ I'm fine," he told her, then to the boy, "I'm fine, really, there's been a mistake." The boy wandered off, having no idea whatsoever what had just happened.

"No, but…" Amy was still baffled. "I remember the wedding, of course I do, but I also remember… except it's like you're my… brother," she spoke the word awkwardly, knowing how strange it would sound to Rory.

"Doctor?" Rory instead turned to the man, who was still lost in thought, but different ones now, by the looks of it. Some things were starting to fall into place, and he had to investigate.

The Doctor had sprung from his stool, nearly tripping over himself in the process, before moving back outside. Rory went to follow him, and after only a brief look back to the pizza – it had sort of lost its appeal now, even though it was perfectly fine, and delicious, and not bound to cause an allergic reaction in either of them – Amy did, too.

They had only made it about five seconds before the Doctor turned on his heel, returned into the restaurant, took a slice of the mushroom pizza from the box which the young waiter had been about to take away, then sauntered over to the table where the aforementioned brother and sister were eating their own pizza.

"Are either of you allergic to this?" he asked.

"I am," the man frowned at the strange man's approach.

"You are?" his sister stared at him in consternation.

"Thank you," the Doctor nodded and turned back around, tossing the slice back in the box where he'd taken it, moving to the door again, realizing his hand was greasy now, and returning for a napkin off the table before he could rejoin his companions and nudge them out of the restaurant once more.

"What did you…" Amy started to ask, but she was soon cut off.

"That man there is allergic to mushrooms," the Doctor declared.

"Yes, we know," Rory replied.

"You found out about it," the Doctor agreed. "And I found out about it. But Amy knew."

"And thought I was her brother," Rory nodded.

"I said I was sorry," Amy muttered.

"No, you didn't."

"Apologize later, don't you see what's happening?" the Doctor resumed control of the conversation. "Amy knew. That man's sister found out." Going by the look he was giving them, the Doctor was entirely of a mind that this should be all they needed to know to understand; Amy and Rory only kept staring at him. "We have to go back to the museum now."

As they went along, both Amy and Rory were very much aware that something was happening, though they hadn't entirely figured out what was happening. The Doctor said nothing, which to them meant they would be getting several earfuls once they arrived back at the museum.

Soon they were walking through the exhibit again, zigzagging along in pursuit of the Doctor. He looked as though he already knew where he was supposed to be but, just to be on the safe side, and because he liked looking at the paintings, he would stop every so often. But then they made it to where he'd been intending to be, to the painting, the couple in the rain. They were about to go up to it, never minding the people already standing there, when a voice called up to them.

"Don't get too close." The trio turned to find a man and woman sitting on a nearby bench. They stood as the Doctor, Amy, and Rory came to them.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked.

"Something happens to people when they go to it," the woman said. "This one's almost done, look," she told them, while consulting her watch. "Six, five, four, three, two, one…" All at once, the people standing in front of the painting blinked, looked at one another, then went on their way.

"They've all been doing that, everyone who goes to that painting," the man went on.

"Everyone?" Rory asked.

"Nine minutes, twenty-seven seconds, not one more, not one less," the man confirmed.

"You've just been watching them?" Amy asked.

"Well, we noticed it, and then…" the woman started to say, looking briefly to the man at her side, hesitating, before she would go on. "Something weird happened."

"Weird? Tell me," the Doctor looked from one to the other and back.

"I'm not sure," the woman said, "But I remembered something that never happened to me."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	5. Field Trip Day

**"Ex Memoria"**

**5. Field Trip Day**

_May 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

The way they understood it, the plan had not always been for the senior class to be brought into this field trip, but somewhere along the way it had changed, and so now it was all of them who were waiting in the McKinley parking lot bright and early that May morning to get on one of the buses headed out. As the teacher she was presently replacing had been meant to be one of the chaperones, Principal Figgins had called on Miss Harrison to substitute her there as well.

Those among the students who knew the woman's true name to be Gemma Lucas had seen her as they'd approached, and it seemed the general consensus that she looked odd that morning. They all knew by now it was near impossible to get one by her on any other day, but this morning she looked distracted and focused all at once, which shouldn't have been possible, and yet here she was.

"What if it's something bad?" Mercedes wondered aloud to Kurt and Blaine, who were walking up with her.

"Bad how?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Maybe she just doesn't like field trips," Kurt suggested, trying to make himself sound less invested than he actually was. They still didn't know about his turn with the Doctor.

But then as they'd joined up with the others in their group, the others had noticed it, too, and they all seemed to agree that something was off, and something had to be done about it.

"We're about to leave," Artie pointed out.

"One of us can go and sit next to her on the bus and ask her… maybe?" Sugar suggested. The others looked amongst themselves, wondering who should do it, and Sugar became determined then that it should be her, so before anyone else had a shot of speaking up… "I'll do it."

The plan became that much easier once they got on the bus and saw that Gemma was by herself. Sugar would have had no problem taking it upon herself to eject whoever was sharing her seat, but now she didn't have to. She waited until they'd been on the road for a few minutes, and then she stood and sidled up the row before dropping in at the fake substitute's side.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, while Gemma jumped. When she saw it was Sugar, she relaxed. "Sorry…"

"It's fine, I… What's up?" Even as she said this, she looked so very out of it, and Sugar was concerned.

"Something happened, didn't it?" she asked, and the look Gemma turned on to her showed the shift in the conversation. Suddenly they weren't teacher and student anymore. Sugar was addressing her in her capacity as the Doctor's companion. Sitting up straight, Gemma couldn't help but be mindful of their surroundings, on a crowded bus in motion. There were enough voices going around them where it could seem as though they'd be able to talk without concern of being heard, but Gemma wouldn't be the kind to take the chance, and neither would Sugar – or at least Padra.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself over," Gemma told her.

"Are you sure?" Sugar asked.

Of all the answers she could have given her, Gemma knew the truth couldn't come anywhere near it, especially with Sugar. She would turn it around and believe it was because of her, and in some aspects of course it was. But there was so much more to it, things Gemma herself was still attempting to make heads or tails of. She had a fairly good idea of what it was that would have led the girl sitting by her side to come up and talk to her, but she couldn't tell her the truth, no matter how much she wanted to.

"More than sure," she volunteered a smile, hoping it would help to put the girl's mind at ease enough to leave her be. Sugar knew she was lying, and she almost looked hurt to discover it. Maybe she thought because of the secret they shared, the one that was to do with her identity before Lima and Earth altogether, she would have opened up without a moment's notice. Gemma did wish she could talk to her about it, and maybe someday they would have a chance at it, but for the time being, it just needed to be something she kept to herself. "I will talk to all of you when we get there," she went on to say, and here at least there was no need to think too hard on how to fill in the blanks. Gemma would be telling them about whoever it was they had to talk to next once they made it off the bus. Maybe she wouldn't tell her what was bothering her, but it was something.

"I'll go and…" Sugar pointed to the back of the bus, moving to stand.

"You can stay if you want to," Gemma offered her, and seeing the sliver of a smile on the girl's face made her feel more at ease than she'd felt all day, ever since she'd gotten the Doctor's message.

As the bus ride had gone on, Sugar had decided that, even though Gemma wouldn't tell her what was really going on, maybe she didn't have to. By allowing her to stay seated next to her, Gemma had inadvertently given her all the opportunity she needed to observe her from up close. Maybe she wasn't some great detective, but there were plenty of things for her to glean out of their time together. One such thing that Sugar picked up on over time was the way Gemma would just stare at her sometimes, like she was trying to find something. She didn't know what that thing was, but it seemed very important to her. Sugar only wished she could figure it out.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	6. The Curator

_A/N: So I had a bad week, which made for this massive delay, the first in nearly five years, but I'm all caught up now, and the chapters/stories will be rolling out over the evening, before things get back on track tomorrow :)_

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**"Ex Memoria"**

**6. The Curator**

_Chicago, Illinois - in the year 2021_

There was never really any question to it. When the Doctor said he wanted to track down whoever was in charge here, it just went without saying that Mike and Tina would be following along. As far as the Doctor, Amy and Rory were concerned the couple had only been there and had been observant enough that they'd picked up on what was happening around them with the painting and it's effects. It had never occurred to them that the couple had been told to go to the museum in order to run into the Doctor. All the same, maybe the couple was realizing that their being there might have been beneficial to the Doctor and saved him some valuable time in doing what needed to be done out resolve this situation.

They had been guided to the curator's office. Amy had wondered why the Doctor wouldn't just examine the painting with his sonic screwdriver or some other device or cleverness, but the Doctor had been immediate and clear on this: until further notice, they were not to go anywhere near that painting. Keeping a safe distance might end up saving their lives and their minds.

"Won't that be a problem then?" Rory asked as they neared the curator's office.

"What'd you mean?" Amy wondered.

"We're not meant to go near it, alright. But what about her?" he pointed to the door where they could read the woman's name as Gillian Moran Fiorentino. "And tour guides, and anyone who works here... They'll be affected, too, maybe more than any others."

Already they had reached a plausible-though-incredible hypothesis that somehow the connection forced onto them while standing in front of that painting allowed for one's memory to be taken and transferred into another's mind. They hadn't all figured out exactly what this would mean in the long run, but the Doctor looked to have a fairly good idea of it, and he looked mildly distressed.

They had gone so far as to knock at the woman's door before a young man had approached them.

"Are you looking for Miss Moran Fiorentino?" he asked cautiously.

"We are, and does she really have to be called by both of those names every time?" the Doctor asked. The young man looked perturbed.

"Miss Moran Fiorentino is... indisposed at the moment. I can take a message, if you'd like, although..."

"Although what?" the Doctor got closer in the young man's face, sensing that pressing authority on to him would help them get more answers.

"The thing is... I'm not entirely sure when... when she might be... disposed, she..." He didn't want to say, whether out of respect for the woman or for his job.

"Doctor, maybe we can..." Amy started to say, and then the young man cut her off.

"You're a doctor?" he asked, then, "What kind?"

"Is something wrong with Miss Moran?" the Doctor asked.

"Fiorentino," the young man breathed.

"Yes, that one, too." He still hesitated briefly, and they could sense something like protectiveness in him. The Doctor was quick to put two and two together. "She's entrusted you with a secret, hasn't she?" The young man looked around.

"No one knows, please..."

"What's your name?"

"Chris."

"Chris, whatever you tell us, it will stay between us, alright?" the Doctor promised. Chris took a breath.

"I think it's better I show you."

Chris led the group of four out of the offices and down into the basements. As they went, they were given their first inklings as to what they were about to be presented with. Miss Moran Fiorentino had begun displaying some strange behavior only six days before. Mike had been the one to ask how long the painting of the couple in the rain had been on display, and Chris had confirmed it had been in the museum for seven days, on display for four. He wouldn't say it, but they could see in his face how he didn't believe it should have all happened so fast. Whether he understood the correlation between the painting and his boss' condition was left to be seen.

Miss Moran Fiorentino's symptoms had not been so pronounced on that first day, but they had existed. Then on the second day it was so very worse, and by the third… As bad as it was getting, for a while, she still had the presence of mind to understand part of what was happening to her and what would become of her as it progressed.

"She wouldn't leave. She said if she did she would only hurt people."

"Hurt them how?" Tina asked, and Chris looked at her.

"Back when she still remembered who she was, she thought she might be contagious." There was a pause.

"Well we've already seen the painting, haven't we?" the Doctor eventually pointed out. "No sense diving for protection now, is there?"

So they had proceeded, and they'd come to the locked room. Chris had the key, and when he opened the door, they could already hear the mutterings.

The woman they found crouched in a corner of the room might once have been a sleek and sharp dressed sort of person, but here now she was anything but. The first words they heard coming from her were repeated, whimpered, pleading.

"I don't know… I don't know… I don't know…"

"Miss… Gillian?" the Doctor tried.

"I don't know… I don't know…" He approached her with caution.

"My name's the Doctor…" The last word seemed to connect with some part of her.

"I stand by what I did, I saved that patient's life," she declared, momentarily firm and on point. But then just as fast, she melted back into uncertainty. "I'm no surgeon…" she breathed.

"No, I didn't think you were," the Doctor nodded. She looked around the room.

"I robbed a place like this once. They locked me up for fifteen years," her voice roughened, then slipped into another wail. "I don't know… I don't know…" She looked up once again, snatching up the Doctor's hands, staring into his eyes, pleading. "Make it stop…"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	7. The Safety of Four Walls

**"Ex Memoria"**

**7. The Safety of Four Walls**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

For the time being, they had left Gillian Moran Fiorentino in the hands of young Chris, instructing him to stay near to but outside the room where she was hiding, and to not let anyone else near her. Already he had been exposed, so it might not have seemed like it would be necessary to leave the confused curator on her own, but any precaution could have made the difference between life and death, so there was nothing wrong in taking them.

As it was, the Doctor only had one thing on his mind, and it was to relocate whatever conversation they were about to have to a more secure and isolated location. He couldn't think of a better place than the TARDIS.

Amy and Rory would be one thing, but now there was the other pair, the Changs, and it had become an affair of five without any of them ever deciding one way or the other, so naturally they would bring them along. Going by what they had managed to see so far, it wasn't too much of a stretch, regardless of the speed with which they were shuffling on out of the museum and toward the police box, to give Mike and Tina the run down about Time Lords and space and time travel, and overall the couple seemed to be taking it well, so much so that the Doctor wondered if perhaps some of Amy or Rory's memories had found themselves wandering to the other couple's heads, installing in them a trust in him.

"Alright, inside, inside, hurry now," the Doctor motioned, nudging the doors to the blue ship open. In the short time it had taken them to walk from Gillian's hiding spot to the TARDIS, the two couples had shuffled so that Amy ushered Tina inside, followed by their respective husbands. The Doctor looked just shy of exasperation.

"So it's not just us," Amy frowned, still feeling slightly freaked out at the thought of a part of some other person's mind inside her head. "It goes both ways, doesn't it? That woman has something of mine?"

"I would imagine so," the Doctor nodded.

"Like what?" Amy asked, her brow creasing as she tried to run through her memories as though she could flip the whole of her life's experiences and find the place where some of the lights might have gone out. "I won't know what it is," she felt her anxiety rise. "She forgot her brother's allergy, she did," she pointed past the closed TARDIS doors. "Already forgot enough for a lifetime," her eyes dipped toward Rory for a second, and he moved to rejoin her side.

"I'll remind you," he promised, taking her hand. The breath she'd lost returned to her some, now that she could squeeze his hand in her own.

"This is bad, isn't it?" Mike was sharing a similar look with his wife. "The curator, she's losing her mind."

"She's losing herself," Tina gave the light correction. "Like there's not enough left of her?" she guessed.

"Might be, might not," the Doctor shrugged. Seeing the looks turned toward him, he clarified. "You find yourself realizing that some of your memories are not your own. What happens then?" No one said a word. "How is one to even know anymore, what is real, what memories truly belong to you, and which ones were introduced into your consciousness? It's in your head, as far as you know, that's where it's always been. The new memories feel as real to you as your true memories, so what's to say that the thing you have perceived as your own memory isn't actually yours? The moment you lose that certainty, that's when everything collapses, and then…" he held his hands to either side of his head. _Madness. Confusion._

The picture he painted with his words was enough to leave the other four properly frightened. The painting, whatever it had done to them, had the capability to rob them of their mind, their sense of self…

"Fish fingers and custard…" Tina mumbled then, and Amy's head turned at once, having caught it.

"What did you just say?" she asked. Tina looked at her, blinking.

"I don't…"

"You said… fish fingers and custard, how would you know, I didn't tell…" Amy breathed, looking around, to Rory, who was now looking at Tina as well.

"When I met you, I…" Tina started to say, and now Amy looked to the Doctor, who was showing no sign at all of recollection. Finding Amy staring at him as wide-eyed as she did though, he stood up straight.

"What? What's the matter?"

"She's got one of your memories," Amy pointed to Tina.

"She does?" the Doctor moved up to her, brandishing his sonic screwdriver in order to examine her. "How do you know it's mine?"

"Because it's one of mine, too," Amy stated simply, and the look on her face let the Doctor know it was an important memory, something he should care about losing… He just had no idea what it was.

"If it's contagious…" Mike said, and a series of troubling thoughts got hold of him. "Who knows how far it'll go. It could bring down the government, worldwide…"

"Who would want to do that? Why?" Tina didn't like the thoughts brought on as Mike had spoken. She wasn't alone.

"It won't get that far," the Doctor vowed. "We'll control it, stop it…"

"And we'll get our memories back?" Amy asked. He turned to her, the confidence in his eyes as comforting to her as ever.

"Yes," he said.

"So what do we do first?" Rory asked. For several seconds, no one said a word, but then even if the others were thinking of their own solutions, they still looked to the Doctor first, confident that he would figure it out, save them and every other person already or eventually infected. The longer the silent stretched though, they grew nervous, and none more than the Doctor. But then he paused, and he moved to look out the TARDIS doors, then swung back inside the ship with a broad smile.

"I have an idea."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	8. Bleeding Out

**"Ex Memoria"**

**8. Bleeding Out**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

Missy Wyatt didn't want to go to the museum. But her best friend and roommate was an art major, and she'd begged her to come along, adding as incentive the promise that they could go to 'that nerd thing' over the summer.

So they'd gone, and it wasn't as though Missy was insensitive to art. She'd even lost track of time, staring at one of the paintings. Even then, she was glad when it was done. She needed to get to work, and her shift was starting soon.

She arrived at the bookstore and just barely clocked in on time. She'd only been on the floor for all of three minutes before being accosted by her first customer. The woman was looking for some comics for her son, and Missy had shown her the way, going so far as to make a few educated recommendations. The woman had left with a satisfied thanks.

Dana Epstein had wrapped each of the thin volumes individually. She was not enthused by the price she'd had to pay for them, but it was Danny's birthday, so how could she not splurge. Her boy was already turning ten…

She was getting a bit of a headache, and that might have turned her off to visiting her mother-in-law, who'd been laid out at the hospital for days following surgery, but she'd promised her husband she would go while he was out of town on business, and heaven knew his mother would make a point of telling him if she didn't go.

There was a young nurse already in Marian Epstein's room by the time Dana arrived, and by the look on the girl's face, it was clear she'd been trapped in that room for some time already, listening to Marian deconstruct everything that was wrong with the world according to her.

Lilah Nakamura had left the room as soon as she'd been liberated. She'd tried to explain to the old woman that she'd been called away – which she had – several times, but it was either that Mrs. Epstein hadn't heard her or didn't care, because she kept going. When her daughter-in-law had arrived, Lilah could have kissed her.

It took her a few minutes to get back on track. She'd been called to pediatrics to see one of her previous patients, who only felt properly at ease when she was there during his treatments, so off she went.

All the children in the ward loved Lilah. Whenever she came by, they would giddily flock to her. The doctors had nothing compared to her. So she went and saw them, talked with them, and it wasn't long that her run in with Marian Epstein was far behind. She could see her fiancée staring at her with a smirk, standing by the door. Sasha would air her 'frustration' that her patients liked Lilah better than her, but Lilah would comfort her, promising at least she loved her better than all others combined.

Josh Ingram's mother didn't like it that he would call Dr. Willis by her first name, but he would remind her that Sasha had been the one to tell him he could call her that. At least today, she didn't comment on it. She had a surprise for him. Mrs. Ingram's brother worked at the museum, and he'd given her a book of paintings for Josh to look at when they couldn't be at the hospital with him. Josh had only frowned a little bit. He was used to his uncle Chris talking to him about art and all that, and he liked some of it, he guessed.

"What's that?" Sasha asked, seeing the book propped open in the boy's lap after his mother had stepped out again.

"Art stuff," Josh had shrugged, turning a page. He smiled then, and Sasha came around to see what had brought it on. "You know, this reminds me of something."

"What's that?" Sasha asked, smiling. His inflection reminded her of Lilah for a moment.

"That time we went to Barcelona, two years ago? We got so sick, but I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you."

Sasha's smile faltered. Josh was oblivious, flipping to another page. The doctor left the room. She found Lilah at the nurses' station.

"You didn't tell Josh Ingram about our trip to Barcelona, did you?" Sasha asked. Lilah blinked.

"Barcelona?" she asked, but then with a gasp she startled. "Danny's present!"

"Who?" Sasha frowned, wondering why everyone was acting so strange on this day of all days.

"I was supposed to go to the bookstore, to get him comics, I won't have time," she looked at her watch.

"Comics? Who is Danny?" Sasha asked.

"My son," Lilah declared matter-of-factly.

"Your what?" Sasha blurted out, attracting some curious glances. "You don't have a son, we've been together for six years, I'd know, or…" she was trying not to get upset, but there was an endless supply of secret son scenarios already running through her head. Now Lilah was the one confused.

"I don't have a son."

"I know that, but you just said…"

"I don't know why I…" she paused, shaking her head. It didn't seem right. She knew she didn't have a son, or a daughter, and she never would, because of her condition, but even now there was some part of her that projected the image of a smiling blond boy who loved comic books. "I must have gotten mixed up, I… I'm sorry."

Even later, when Dana Epstein came once more, escorting her son to see his grandmother, Lilah felt a new beat to her heart, like she knew the boy. The Epsteins didn't notice. Danny was busy telling his grandmother about how his mother was taking him to San Diego over the summer. Dana Epstein looked like she wasn't entirely sure when she'd decided this, but then Lilah didn't stick around. If Marian Epstein saw her again, she'd never get to leave.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	9. What Must Not

**"Ex Memoria"**

**9. What Must Not**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

The Doctor had left Mike, Tina, Amy, and Rory to wait for him in the middle of a park. He needed to go somewhere and needed to minimize the spread of the painting's 'infection.' Mike had been about to point out they could hide out at their home, but Tina had stopped him. It wasn't until Amy and Rory had wandered off in search of food that the Changs had a moment to speak amongst themselves.

"It's so weird," Tina had to say. "He hadn't met us yet, but we knew him. But then at some point he'll go to Lima, and he's going to see us, and he'll know who we are, but we won't know him."

"Well we knew some things," Mike countered, but it clearly didn't count for her.

They still remembered that field trip, where they'd eventually come to realize their friends had been working together to get them to know about and believe in the existence of the alien Doctor. It wouldn't be so long after that that they would actually meet him, for the first time, and they would know their friends had spoken true.

"What if he finds out," Tina aired her true concerns. "If he, or Amy, or Rory gets one of our memories about that time? If he knows everything before, won't it make trouble? Like… contaminating… time… or something?"

"Maybe," Mike understood now, and the concerns passed to him as well.

"How do you think it works?" Tina wondered aloud. "The memories, I mean… Do they just go at random, or do we have to be thinking about them in some way?"

"I don't know, it might. Until we know for sure, we should be careful not to think about any of it."

"You know we will. As soon as anyone says 'don't think about it,' it's all we can think about," she sighed.

"Think of something else," Mike told her.

"Like what?" Tina frowned.

"Anything you don't mind losing. Childhood nightmares, annoying songs…"

"Fake stutters," she jumped in, and he smiled.

"I kind of miss that, sometimes," he admitted. She smacked his arm with a laugh.

"Fine, I'll find something to think about."

"So now we know why Gemma said she'd be staying away this time," Mike nodded, looking up to make sure Amy and Rory were still away. "If she came, she might be infected, too."

"The Doctor has to know about her by now," Tina pointed out. "Even if they don't," she indicated Amy and Rory.

"We still can't tell him, or them. If we do, they'll know we're hiding something."

"No, right, of course," Mike nodded.

"You know, it still feels like she'd hiding something from us."

"Who, Gemma?"

"Yeah," Tina bowed her head. "It was normal before, I think, with what was coming, but that's over now, so what's there to hide?"

"I have no idea," Mike replied, although now that she'd mentioned it, he did sort of understand what she meant.

"I think Artie knows," Tina continued. "He called a couple weeks ago, and we talked, and that whole thing sort of came up. I can't really explain, I just think he knows something about her that we don't."

It had been easier for some of them, in the last nine years, to put the whole Doctor thing behind. It wasn't to say that they'd forgotten, because they could never do that, but it wasn't a part of their active lives anymore. There were still some of them though, for one reason or another, who thought about it more than most. And Mike and Tina, being mildly aware of an eventual encounter, had been two of those.

Whenever they heard of anything strange happening, they would wonder if it meant the Doctor would be here, somewhere on Earth. They would wonder if it meant that they would be seeing him again soon. But it always ended up being a fluke, or something not as strange as they'd believed. Either way, there had been no encounters. Not until today…

When Amy and Rory came back toward them, Mike and Tina forced themselves to focus, pushing thoughts of Lima in 2012 to the backs of their minds and covering themselves in a shield of bad songs and past embarrassments. They weren't sure what it would do, and they sort of felt bad, if it would mean the Doctor's companions would be saddled with those bad memories, but it was better than any alternative they had. It was for their own good.

They briefly considered telling the other couple the truth, about the fact that their meeting the Doctor today, the way they'd done, had not been random, that they'd been there, the better to join him, and them, as instructed by one of his… her… future companions.

They decided against it almost just as soon. They didn't know what to expect of the next little while, and unless it became absolutely necessary, it was better to limit the flow of information… especially if that information could be spirited away into anyone else's mind they might encounter.

The four of them ate in a relative and almost awkward silence, like they were all working individually to guard their memories.

It was some time before the Doctor returned, and after a while, they wandered some more, only to discover the TARDIS had been there all along. Now this left the four of them with some questions. For one, if he hadn't taken the TARDIS to go see whoever he'd gone to see, where had he gone? And if he had left the TARDIS behind, then why did the rest of them have to wait in the park instead of the ship?

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	10. Mission Chang Squared

**"Ex Memoria"**

**10. Mission Chang Squared**

_May 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

The bus had not come to a stop too soon. They had not realized how long the ride would be, and as much as they could all pass the time talking amongst themselves, or reading, or anything else, they were all still very aware of the passage of time and the cramped quarters of being on the bus. Most if not all of them stepped off the bus with the same sort of deep breath and sigh of relief at being back in the open.

The chaperones had been quick to step in and make sure that no one wandered off and they could organize the groups in an orderly fashion, the better to get started.

For that, it took near on an hour before Gemma was able to come along and gather a handful of the Glee Club. She couldn't expect to scoop all of them who were aware of the Doctor and still have use of the word 'covert.' But they had things to do, and she knew the word would spread to the rest of them. She got a hold of Puck, Sugar, and Santana.

"Right," she breathed. "I need you guys to get Mike and Tina on board." Santana chuckled before holding a hand out to Puck. He frowned, then dug his hand in his pocket and produced a five-dollar bill, which he planted into the girl's waiting palm. She smirked and put it away. "Anyway…" Gemma gave them a look before she could go on. "I don't need to tell you to be careful, do I? The same rules still apply. Be discreet, as hard as it might be around here," she sighed. As much as they would be out in the open, everybody would be focused on the trip, and that could be as beneficial as they needed.

"We can do it," Sugar promised her. Puck had already started walking away, and Sugar was pulled to follow him when Santana took hold of her arm, leaving her no choice but to follow.

"Okay, so you go and tell some, and I'll do the same, that way it won't look like we're up to something," Puck told the girls, sneaking a look off to Coach Sylvester, who was just waiting for one of them, any one of them, to do something wrong, so she could punish them.

"Who died and put you in charge?" Santana protested.

"Are you saying my plan isn't good?" Puck turned back to her and she laughed.

"You call that a plan?" she frowned.

"Well it's a start," Puck countered.

"Do you want to get them both at once or are we doing 'divide and conquer?'" Santana offered. Puck considered this for a minute.

"Let's try both together first. If that doesn't work, me and the guys will go after Mike, and you girls do Tina."

"Fine, I guess," Santana agreed, still mildly annoyed to have him take control. "What about the other ones, the other 'targets,'" she air quoted. "Sam, and Kurt, and Blaine? Do they realize we did to them what we're about to do with Tina and Mike?"

"We should keep them out of this then," Sugar jumped in, attempting to contribute.

"Fine by me," Puck nodded. He wouldn't say it to their faces, but they knew it bugged him sometimes, how it was all of them now, and getting more and more crowded every time they had to talk up another. Now they were going after two more.

"We've got our phones, you get Artie," Santana pointed to Puck. "You get Mercedes and Quinn," she turned to Sugar, who gave a quick nod. "And I'll take care of Britt. We'll conference call if we can, otherwise, we've got messengers and texts and all that."

Just like that, they dispersed, each one in search of their designated people. Puck found Artie, pulling him away from Kurt and Blaine, while Sugar tracked down first Quinn, and then Mercedes, by which time Santana had already linked arms with Brittany. The three clusters stayed apart from one another, but one quick conference call had them all linked together.

The revelation that both Tina and Mike were to be approached next was taken with hardly any surprise among the others. There was some matter of argument as to how they were going to get this done. Some of them agreed to hit both at once, while others were of a mind to divide and conquer. Then there were those who wondered why they were keeping Kurt, Blaine, and Sam in the dark, but it was quickly dealt with.

When it came down to it, they agreed to go at it together. They could see their two targets, walking along hand in hand, so why should they waste time trying to separate them? If it became necessary, then fine, that would be what they'd do but otherwise there really was no point giving up on the chance to hit two birds with one stone.

There still remained the need to figure out exactly how they would approach them with all this, but they at least knew they meant to use their tried and true tactic of leading their targets to the truth, as though they had not entirely meant to involve them, but now that they'd been 'caught,' well…

They'd have to wait a bit before they could go forward. They'd all been packed into an auditorium for a presentation. That was fine by them. At least they could use that time to figure out what they would say to them to convince them.

As busy as they were to figure it all out, not one of those seven had realized they hadn't been as discreet as they'd planned to be. It was lucky for them that the one who overheard them was not someone like Coach Sylvester, that it had been someone already aware of things, even though they had elected not to include him in their plan to get after Mike and Tina.

They were even luckier that it had been Kurt, who knew even more than they realized, though that would not stop him from going to Blaine and Sam and telling them what he'd heard.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	11. A Face of Comfort

**"Ex Memoria"**

**11. A Face of Comfort**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

Walking through those doors, it might have felt as though there should be more happening. There was a painting playing hodge podge with people's heads, surely there should be more activity in the news center of the television studio. But then it hadn't gotten bad enough that people either made the connection or even noticed at all… not yet. The Doctor honestly hoped the situation would not have time to deteriorate to that level, but it still could.

He also had to admit that, to some extent, what he was about to do left him with a sense of anticipation. In all his years, all he had encountered on Earth, when matters reached public awareness, there was one face, one steadfast voice he knew to count on.

In all the years of her career, Trinity Wells had seen more than her share of strange and otherworldly events. If he had to talk to any one newscaster, it would have to be her. That he would now meet her was almost too thrilling for words.

She had aged as gracefully as anyone could, but she still had that same steely sort of determination in the face of impossible things. Now he needed her to catch on to the situation as promptly as anyone could. He waited until he could get her alone, very aware that he himself was at risk of spreading the memory infection if he didn't concentrate on keeping everything where it needed to be.

Concentrated as he was, there was still a small sort of smile on his face, like the first words he would speak to her would go along the lines of "Hello, I'm the Doctor, big fan." She'd spotted him standing there, looking at her, and she'd walked toward him a few paces.

"Can I help you?" she asked, and for a moment he had forgotten why he was there. He blinked and took a step forward.

"Can you ever," he spoke before remembering himself and getting to the point, offering his hand, which she shook as he went on. "Miss Wells, my name is John Smith," he declared, deciding it would facilitate gaining her trust. "There is a situation unfolding as we speak, in this very city, and I need your help to let the people know. Time is of the essence."

He could see in her eyes all the thoughts crossing along. There was that journalistic side who wanted to know, but there was also the other side, which resorted to the possibility that this man standing before her was either crazy or dangerous, or both. At the very least, she was in a familiar place where she felt safe and where she knew security officers were within reach. She wasn't running, so he took this as a cue to carry on.

"This will sound entirely impossible, but you're Trinity Wells, you've covered enough events of the sort to, hopefully, keep an open mind." Her posture shifted.

"I'm listening." As it so happened, there was an ad for the museum and its exhibit plastered on a nearby bulletin board. The Doctor scampered up to it.

"You've heard of this exhibit, haven't you?" he pointed to the ad.

"Naturally," Trinity nodded.

"There is a painting in that exhibit. I don't know how it found its way there or who is responsible, but there's something wrong with it."

"If you're going to tell me it's a forgery, I'm not the one you…"

"It's not a replica," the Doctor cut her off. "It's not even that special," he shrugged.

"So then what is so…"

"Something in that painting, or perhaps the frame, I'm not sure, but something transmits what you might call a virus. Anyone who comes to stand before it has been or will be infected, and they will pass it on." Trinity Wells went on observing him. She might not have trusted him entirely just yet, but it was serious enough that she couldn't keep from investigating it at least a bit.

"What kind of infection are we talking about?"

"Memories," the Doctor revealed plainly. Trinity Wells' face shifted again, though she was still listening. "It allows for one memory from one person to be swapped out with another's. And it will go on, and on, and it will spread, and if it is allowed to spread, it will breech the city, the country… The whole world is at risk of a total individuality breakdown."

She said nothing. She kept staring.

"I know you have no reason to trust me. But I also know the work you've done. I have a proposition for you, one that will prove to you both that I am telling the truth and that truth can be expected from me." He paused, wondering if this statement had been redundant. Regardless, he would soon be relieved to see he was getting through to her.

"Where is this proof?" she asked.

"Go to the museum. Not to the painting itself but to the curator. Her name is Gillian Moran Fiorentino. Now, you won't be able to find her on your own. There will be a young man named Chris. I can tell you how to find him. Tell him the Doctor sent you, that he is to explain to you exactly what's happened to Miss Moran Fiorentino, and to let you see her. You'll need to be careful. Her case is very advanced due to her level of exposure."

"And what about you?" she asked after a beat. "Where's your proof?" The Doctor smiled, reaching in his pocket to write down a number.

"After you've seen her, call here."

He gave her the number, watched her consider it… And then she nodded. She would go to the museum.

After he'd left the studio and watched her go, he took a breath. He didn't have to worry about her being infected. As much as he'd tried not to, he had passed it on to her. He knew, because he could recognize the new memory. He only wondered what she'll have gotten from him.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	12. A Pressing Need

**"Ex Memoria"**

**12. A Pressing Need**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

They had lost track of just how long they had been waiting inside the TARDIS, but by all accounts it couldn't have been that far off from the Doctor returning. Once he did, they could finally get on track with deciding their next step, to handle this infection and right everything which had been wronged.

Tina and Mike had been alternately sitting quietly and standing to pace around the console, inspecting the various gadgets and controls. They couldn't say it aloud, but it only took one look between one another to know what they were thinking. They couldn't speak for the rest of the ship, but this room right here was different from the one they had seen when they'd first met the Doctor nine years prior. It made it that much easier then to act as though they were surprised and impressed.

Amy had been throwing darts. She found it easier to focus and not let any memories wander if she kept herself busy this way. She was aiming now, concentrating with the confidence that she would hit the bulls eye, when Rory broke the near silence of the TARDIS and startled her into hitting the outer edges.

She was going to complain, until she turned around and found her husband running for the door with great haste.

"Rory, what on Earth are you doing?" He pivoted back to look at her, the panic clear on his face.

"I'm late, I have to go!"

"Late for what?" Amy approached him cautiously, while Mike and Tina looked on.

"The meeting, at the bank, the loan! If I'm not there, we'll lose the house!" There was no need wondering whether or not he'd 'caught a memory,' but Amy had a good idea of where it might have come from.

"Rory? Listen to me," she approached him the way one might approach a jittery animal they were trying to catch. "There's no meeting, no loan, not for you," she assured him.

"Yes, there is, I know, the note's been on the refrigerator door for a week!" he made for the door again and Mike came nearer, bracing in case they had to stop him.

"That wasn't you," Amy went on.

"Of course it was, Amy, we can't lose the house, what about the kids?"

"We've only just married, we don't have children, Rory," she insisted, and he looked wounded. "I know where the memory must have come from, that man, in the food truck, remember? It can't be us, we don't live in Chicago… on in 2021."

Rory wouldn't budge. The memory felt so real to him, it just couldn't be that it didn't belong to him.

"But… the loan…" he pleaded.

"We could prove it to him," Tina suggested, and the others turned to her; Rory was very much on board with this idea. "We know the city, we can get him there and back in no time," she promised.

Amy still didn't feel like this was a great idea, but the desperation would not leave her husband's eyes. So the four of them left the TARDIS. Once Rory told them which bank the meeting was at, Tina and Mike had led the way; Amy didn't let go of Rory's arm.

If the bank hadn't been so close to their previous location, it might have been more of a problem, but even as they climbed the steps out front, they could look back and see the top of the TARDIS at a distance.

Walking through the door, Amy could see how much Rory was struggling to do as he'd been told. He wanted to believe Amy when she said what he was remembering wasn't real. She was his wife, she loved him, so why would she lie, especially with what they'd seen already. But the things he felt about this memory were so strong in him that he couldn't let go. He had promised to keep it together as they went into the bank, and he was doing it, no matter how hard it was.

"Is this the place?" Mike asked.

"Yes, I… I think so," Rory frowned.

Just then, they overheard a man and woman talking, two bank employees. Rory seemed to recognize one, which they guessed was the loan officer. He was telling the woman how one of his appointments hadn't shown up, which was a shame for that family. When he looked around and happened to see Rory and the others there, the lack of recognition appeared to seal the deal and convince Rory.

"This is all my fault," he declared, dejected, as they left the bank. "If we hadn't gone to his truck, I wouldn't have gotten his memory and he wouldn't have missed his appointment. Now his family will lose their house, and all he'll have gotten in return will be some Enrique Iglesias song."

"After this is done, we'll find him," Mike declared. "We'll find a way to help him," Tina nodded in agreement. Amy joined in by turning an encouraging smile on to Rory, who let out a breath, then nodded.

"We should get back to the TARDIS before…" Amy started to say, just as Tina's phone rang.

"It's Mrs. Lenkov," she read off the ID before answering. Shortly they would explain to Amy and Rory that Mrs. Lenkov was their elderly neighbor. "Hello?" Tina replied. They watched her as she listened and, as she spoke back, they pieced together the situation.

It seemed there was a man banging loudly at her door, looking for her, claiming to be her sister, even though Mrs. Lenkov hadn't seen or heard from her sister since she'd run away decades before, and also this man was in no way an old woman.

They could guess the truth of the matter and, with no need for hesitation, they promised Mrs. Lenkov that they were on their way.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	13. Necessary Truths

**"Ex Memoria"**

**13. Necessary Truths**

_May 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

Kurt had spent the whole of the presentation silently watching the others. It was dark, but he knew where they sat, and he could tell they were talking amongst themselves. He could guess what those conversations were.

After the presentation was done, Kurt and Blaine got up to follow everyone as they exited, at the same time 'rescuing' Sam from being trampled when they saw he'd fallen asleep.

"I hope there wasn't going to be a quiz," Sam yawned as they walked out, and the tour carried on. "Dude, what's wrong?" Sam asked, seeing the expression on Kurt's face.

"Nothing's 'wrong,'" he promised, standing tall.

"But…" Sam prodded, seeing there had to be something. Kurt hesitated, first looking to both Blaine and Sam, then spotting out where the others were, and finally making sure there was no one too close before finally confiding in hushed tones.

"The others, Puck, and Santana, and Sugar and the rest, they're going to try to tell Mike and Tina about the Doctor."

"They are?" Blaine asked, looking around to see them, too.

"They told you that?" Sam asked.

"That's the thing, they didn't say, and they're not going to. They don't want to include us, I guess, because they've met him-slash-her."

"And we haven't," Blaine added. Kurt said nothing. Sam also said nothing, but in this case, Kurt had a feeling there was some other reasoning behind it. He knew that Sam had had much more difficulty believing that this was all real. It was hard to say if Blaine would have been harder to convince, too, if it hadn't been for that note from his future self, which Gemma had acquired.

"Hey, can you go and see about when we're stopping to have lunch?" Kurt found himself asking Blaine. He didn't know why he did it, expect now his boyfriend was off, and he was alone with Sam, so he took his chance. "I need to tell you something. You can't tell anyone, especially Blaine."

"You didn't cheat on him, did you?" Sam asked with a protective air.

"What? No, I would never, I…" he took another quick look around. "There's something I haven't told you guys, and I can't say it, but…" he sighed. "A few weeks ago, I met him." There was no need to specify who 'he' was. Sam blinked, staring at Kurt like he was trying to decide if this was his version of pulling his leg. "He showed up, at school."

"What?"

"The thing is, I'd sort of met him before. I didn't know about the whole alien thing, the space travel, time travel… But I'd met him. Then he showed up a few weeks ago, and that's when I learned the truth. The thing is, in a few years, he's going to run into Blaine, and he's going to take him to another world. Something's going to happen, and before Blaine comes home, he's going to ask the Doctor if he'd take me somewhere, too, because he'll still think I haven't been. But when the Doctor kept his promise, he came now, or at least weeks ago, so before Blaine asked."

"So that means…" Sam asked, making sure he had it right.

"It means Blaine can't know I've met the Doctor like this, or he'll never ask, and… yeah… So I can't tell the others either. They have no idea."

"So why did you tell me then?"

"Because I know you still have trouble believing it, and I get that. But I swear, everything they've said is real." Sam didn't reply, and Kurt let him process it all.

"Mr. Schue says about twenty minutes." Kurt startled, then smiled when he saw Blaine was back. "So, what do we do, about Tina and Mike and the rest of them?" he asked, oblivious to anything Kurt and Sam had been discussing.

Sam looked to Kurt for a moment. He didn't know why it was that he still had that one last thread hanging on, always ready to jump back into disbelief, but it was there. Maybe now it was getting easier, the more he saw, the more he heard. It was going much too elaborate to be a prank.

"I just don't get why it has to be all of us, why it has to be specific people at specific times… Why Mike and Tina, why now, both of them?" Sam asked, because he needed to know, wanted to know.

"I don't know," Kurt admitted. He had ideas on subject, but he couldn't say without 'revealing' himself, and since he was almost sure Blaine had the same idea of it, he turned to him for 'help.'

"From what I've heard, the Doctor is going to need us, all of us, at some point, to do something. We won't know what it is, or why it has to be this way, until the time comes."

"And now it's Mike and Tina's turn," Sam spoke, and then paused. "They don't want us to help," he indicated the others again.

"Then let's just let them do their thing for now, and we'll see what happens. The way I see it, they're going to have to try it a couple of times," Kurt nodded.

"Yeah, Tina might be hard to convince," Blaine guessed.

"Hey," Sam had a thought. "So if they haven't met the Doctor, but we have to convince them together, do you think that means they'll get married someday or something?"

"Maybe," Kurt blinked. He hadn't even thought of that. Maybe the Doctor would meet them in the future? He'd met Blaine, or would meet Blaine in the future after all. That would explain part of it.

"Hey, we better hurry up, if we fall behind, Sylvester's going to lose it," Sam nodded over to the cheerleading coach, who was looking over the group like a hawk.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	14. Guarding Memories

**"Ex Memoria"**

**14. Guarding Memories**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

They weren't in the park. He'd gone all around, seeking them out, but it was no use. No Amy or Rory, no Changs. The Doctor went back to the TARDIS, hoping they might have come upon it and gone inside as they waited for him to return.

Save for the normal ambient noises, the ship was empty. It really should not have surprised him anymore when words so simple as 'don't wander off' were completely ignored, but it did. This time however, there was an extra level of 'difficulty.' Knowing about the painting and what it could do to people, he was forced to wonder if something other than errant curiosity could have led them away.

He had to find them; he would find them, yes. But maybe he didn't have to look now.

The thing was, they might all have been better off if he remained away from everyone. For all the lives he'd led, centuries worth of memories, there was so much good, yes… but as good as the good was, when it came to the bad…

If no one could get saddled with those memories, then that would be best. Now he had some time to himself, to consider what he'd learned so far and what the next step should be. He had a fair idea on that, and he could almost pinpoint then moment when the phone would ring.

He went to the museum by foot. As parted as he was from his little group of wanderer, they would need a place to come back to, and when he came back, hopefully, they'd be there waiting for him.

Trinity Wells was sitting on a bench outside the museum when he arrived. She stood as he approached. He knew right away that she was on board.

"What is it that you need me to do?" she asked, and he could have hugged her. He almost did, then thought better.

"For now, the best we can do is to slow the spread of the infection. Get out a report, a gas leak at the museum, something so they won't go," he started to move past her, then doubled back. "Those who've already been, send them to a hospital. It's like a virus outbreak, I trust you know what to do."

With this, they parted. Trinity Wells was bound for the station, and the Doctor was off to find Gillian Moran Fiorentino.

He had an idea.

Going by the look on Chris' face when he arrived, the Doctor knew things had gotten worse in his absence. If it all worked as he saw it, he might be able to fix her, quickly and painlessly. She'd be alright, but him…

Walking into the room, the Doctor first thought she was asleep… then dead… then catatonic. For one brief instant, he was back on the ship bound for Midnight, staring into fixed blue eyes… But when he came into her line of sight, Gillian sprang to life.

"No… No!" she scrambled back, until the wall was at her back. The Doctor crouched in front of her, and still she squirmed.

"It's alright," he told her in a soothing voice. When he touched her hands, she breathed out, slow. "Good. Now… I'm going to take something from you, but I need you to concentrate. It won't hurt at all, and I'll let you have something nice to replace it, understand?"

She didn't reply, but she stopped struggling, so he took it as a yes.

"Close your eyes," he instructed, placing his hands on either side of her face. "I want you to think back, think about that painting, with the man and woman in the rain. You've seen it many times, I know, so I want you to think about a specific time. Think about the very first time you saw it, alright?"

There was still a chance it wouldn't work, but he was confident that it would. The first time she'd seen it, Gillian Moran Fiorentino had been infected, so somewhere inside that memory, that was where it lived, her infection; if he could take it from her, then she should be alright again.

But then it would have to go somewhere, and it would come to him. He would be twice hit, and he didn't know how this would play out with someone like him, but it couldn't be good.

It hit so hard that he and Gillian stumbled away from one another. While the Doctor remained as he was, on the ground, the woman panted, catching her breath, but at the same time she felt suddenly elated.

"I… I… My head…" she pressed her hands to it. It didn't hurt anymore. She could think; she hadn't done that in so long. She knew without a doubt that her thoughts, her memories, were her own, except maybe for one, of standing in the snow with a blond girl by her side, pointing to the skies.

By her side now, the Doctor had rolled on to his side, curled in a ball. He was holding his head, too, but while she had done it out of relief, for the Doctor it was anything but. Everything hurt, more than he would have ever thought it would.

It was as though the second infection had run into his head and turned on all the lights, all eleven, and they shouted in his head in complete disarray. If the infection could shuffle memories from one person to the next, with him it found eleven people, in one body… and it was raging through him, crossing memories from one to the other, from his fourth to his seventh, his second to his tenth…

"Who am I… who am I…" he roared breathlessly. "Doctor… Doctor… Who…" He laughed dazedly.

"Chris!" Gillian Moran Fiorentino shouted, opening the door and finding the startled young man.

"You're okay!"

"Yes, but he's not, hurry!"

They wouldn't leave him on his own. He had saved her, and Gillian Moran Fiorentino would gladly return the favor.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	15. Truth in Sight

**"Ex Memoria"**

**15. Truth in Sight**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

They had carried themselves from the bank to the house of Mrs. Ana Lenkov as fast as they could. They knew she was frightened, didn't understand what was happening. It had taken the rest of them the length of the ride to put it together, and as soon as they did, they came to the conclusion that Mrs. Lenkov might not be in any danger at all: She might be on the verge of having a very good day, compared to the rest of them.

They reached the house to find a man sitting dejectedly on the front steps, weeping. By the looks of him, he might have been a bodyguard or a bouncer, which made the entire image that much more surprising.

Rory was still slightly out of it, after the journey to the bank, chasing the food truck man's memory, so he wouldn't step forward. Amy hesitated for a moment before starting a cautious advance, one slow step at a time.

"Hello? I'm sorry, I…" The man looked up, and Amy froze. "You alright?"

"She won't let me in," he sniffled, wiping his face in his sleeve.

"Mrs. Lenkov?" Amy asked.

"Ana…" the man spoke; he didn't know the name. Amy looked to Mike and Tina, who nodded.

"Who is Ana to you?" Amy tried.

"My sister. She's my twin sister, or… I think…" he frowned, as though he could sort of see that this wasn't right, but not entirely. "We were born in that house… I think… But I… I think I left and…"

"He's a nurse," Rory pointed then. Amy looked where he pointed and she saw an ID clipped to his clothes. This was the last piece they'd been missing.

"Sir?" Amy asked as she crouched, hoping that the word would reach within him, beyond the memory that had a hold of him. She squinted to read his ID. "Ted?" He looked at her; he was listening. "I understand what's happening to you, we all do. And I think we can help you. You just need to let us go inside and speak with Ana on our own. Is that okay?" Ted nodded gladly.

He stepped down on to the curb; he would wait. Tina and Mike went ahead, Amy and Rory behind them. Mrs. Lenkov had to have been right there at the door watching. As soon as they'd reached the top step, she had opened the door to let them in, closing and locking the door once they were all in.

"Can you make him leave?" she asked. On the ride over, Mike explained that Mrs. Lenkov was constantly worried that someone would come and force her to move into a retirement home, force her to leave the home she'd lived in her whole life. It came as no surprise then that she wouldn't want to call the cops.

"Mrs. Lenkov, it's alright," Tina promised her. "Come, let's sit, we can explain."

So they went and sat, and there the four of them did their best to explain what was happening out there so she would know they were telling the truth.

What it came down to was this: Ted the nurse had received a memory from someone, possibly one of the patients at the hospital where he worked, and this person was possibly Mrs. Lenkov's long lost twin sister.

It might have been the most preposterous thing she'd ever heard, but she looked out her window at the man standing on the curb, and she stayed there in silence, watching him, for a long time. Finally, she spoke.

"Let him in."

It was a brief conversation before the six of them made for the hospital. The nearer they came, it seemed Ted remembered more and more, not from the memory he had received but from his own mind. He had been looking after a woman called Lena ever since she had been brought in, and she had been kind to him, and he had listened to her stories. He remembered how she'd told him that she'd run from home when she was young, that she'd tried going back many times but she'd always failed, always too ashamed.

"Ted, are you okay?" a young Japanese nurse accosted them as they walked through the hall. "You just ran off. Carter's looking for you, and…"

"Sorry, Lilah, not now," Ted apologized before ushering Mrs. Lenkov along.

In the room, they found the woman staring up at the television screen, clicking as best as her aching hands would allow, to change the channel. Growing up, they had never thought that they ever looked nearly as identical as people claimed that they did, but now, as she looked at the woman in her bed, Ana Lenkov couldn't help but think she might have been staring into a mirror.

"Lena…" she spoke, and then the bedridden woman turned, a moment of shock turned into tears of joy. She had long accepted that she would spend what little life she had left still missing her sister, but now here she was.

Standing back, Ted the nurse looked proud, while the others looked on, some of them in tears as well. Somewhere in all the destruction it had the potential to bring forth, the painting and its infection had gone and made a good thing happen. They wouldn't have thought it possible, but here they were, watching Ana and Lena, reunited, talking animatedly about their lives.

"Will they be alright?" Amy turned to the others. "Can we leave them, because we should…" she motioned, and they knew: the Doctor would be waiting for them.

"I'll make sure she gets home okay," Ted promised, so after saying goodbye to the sisters, the four had left the hospital and started on their way to the park where the TARDIS – and potentially a very annoyed Doctor – would be waiting.

As they were walking out though, they caught a glimpse of a television in a corner. Trinity Wells was on, reporting a gas leak at the museum. The ER was starting to get crowded, though they didn't understand why right away. First, to the TARDIS.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	16. Emma & Gemma

_A/N: Okay this is the last one for catching up ;)_

* * *

**"Ex Memoria"**

**16. Emma & Gemma**

_May 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

The lunch break couldn't have arrived soon enough. Looking at all the students in those last minutes before they'd stopped was like witnessing the elements lining up for a prison riot. But now that they had stopped and sat to eat, all was once again right with the world. The Glee Club, half of it anyway, seemed to be having an engaging conversation.

Emma had not been meant to act as one of the chaperones that day, and she'd been called in only late the night before to replace one of the teachers who'd called in sick. She didn't mind. Compared to most of the others here today, she actually looked like she was enjoying herself.

She'd gone to sit with Will for lunch, but then her eye had been drawn to the substitute, Ginny Harrison. Maybe she had trouble clocking out from work, but she saw the perturbed look on the brunette's face, and she couldn't help but going up to her.

"Mind if I sit with you?" she asked as the sub looked up, slightly startled.

"Oh, sure, I…" she started gathering up her things so to make space on the table.

"Thanks," Emma sat with her packed lunch.

At first they ate and talked about the field trip and how it had gone so far. As much as Ginny promised that she was enjoying herself, Emma could see right through her, and they had a good laugh over it. Eventually though, Emma needed to get to the point.

"I can't shake this feeling like you're having a bad day. Not about the trip, just in general," Emma explained. Ginny looked at her, quiet. "I just mean… You look like you've got something on your mind and, well, I am known to be a good listener," Emma encouraged with a smile. Ginny gave a small smile back.

"Yeah, that's what I've heard, too." Emma kept looking at her, waiting. "It's nothing, really."

"Doesn't look like nothing," Emma countered.

"I guess not," Ginny admitted, then, after a pause and a relenting sigh. "I just got some… some news, this morning," she revealed, once she'd found a word for it. It still didn't feel quite right.

"Good news or bad?" Emma asked.

"Surprising," Ginny replied, once she'd considered it properly.

"Surprising?" Emma repeated, while Ginny frowned to herself. Try as she might, it was hard not to become curious. "In what way?" Ginny paused, and by her face, Emma would say she was bordering on delving too deep for the substitute's comfort. "Does it have anything to do with the school?" Emma asked, letting Ginny volunteer or hold whatever information she wished to.

"It's… family business," Ginny explained, and now Emma's eyes rounded, taking a quick look around the room before leaning in.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" she asked in hushed tones… Ginny laughed.

"Oh, no, it's not…" she shook her head, then with a pause, "That'd just be the last thing I needed, wouldn't it?" she muttered to herself before looking back to Emma. "Listen, I really appreciate what you're trying to do here, I do. But it's not really something I can talk about right now, and…"

"No, it's alright, I get it, and I shouldn't have pried."

"But I get you were trying to help, so, really, thank you," Ginny smiled.

"If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me," Emma insisted, and again Ginny smiled.

They carried on and finished their lunch together before they were all set for the last stretch before it was time to board the bus and head home.

As much as she'd had to keep boxed in, to not reveal to the guidance counselor, Gemma had truly appreciated the intention. She wished she could have told her more, but even if she had, there was nothing to be done, nothing that had to be done. The Doctor had merely let her know something, and it had managed to put a new and unexpected twist on her current situation.

Maybe someday she would find a way to tell her the truth. It would almost be worth it, just to see how she'd react.

She hadn't realized she had spent long enough with the woman for this, but now that she was coming nearer and nearer to the end of her time in Lima, she was finding so many things she knew she would grow to miss. The faculty at McKinley High had become a part of her world, just like the students, and it would be strange to not come in anymore, and teach her classes. For how much she'd struggled at first, now she wanted to go on… 'Maybe someday," she would think at times.

Then there was the Glee Club.

Getting to spend time with all of them, she couldn't even put into words what it had meant to her. She'd never be able to tell them, not really, and that might have been her one regret. If they only knew how much they'd all come to mean to her…

She was just as glad for those precious times where she'd been invited into the choir room. It wasn't that she'd lost her love for music, but she hadn't really utilized it all this way since she'd finished school. She'd never wanted it to become background to her life, and then it just had.

She was going to change that, she'd decided. When she'd go back to the Doctor, she would keep travelling with her for a while, she hoped, but she knew now more than ever that it would all end eventually, and after that, her life had to go on.

She could be a music teacher… Wouldn't that bring it all together? And maybe… somehow… she would still have Walter. They could make their life together, love each other, have children… Maybe it was her talk with Emma, but her future had never looked so clear…

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	17. For His Own Good

**"Ex Memoria"**

**17. For His Own Good**

_Inside the TARDIS_

They had been so convinced that they would return to the ship and be confronted with an annoyed Time Lord that the majority of the travel back from the hospital to the park had been spent with Amy and Rory alternating in sharing the tales of past encounters with the Doctor's frustrations. But when they'd come through the door, they had found the place as silent and empty as they'd found it the last time. A quick run around had established to a near certainty that, if the Doctor had come, he had left once again, and they were no nearer to being reunited.

"Maybe he's still at the station," Tina suggested. "Trinity Wells did that report, so he could be back there."

"I'll call and try to see if he's there," Mike offered, and soon he was stepping out of the ship, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"Why don't you go and lie down a bit," Amy told Rory, tapping his shoulders. "You've had a rough day, get some rest while we're waiting, alright?" she told him as she guided him in the direction of the bedrooms. Rory looked ready to complain, but in the end, he might have caught on to what was really happening. He bowed his head and went in search of a bed.

Left alone, standing around the controls, Amy observed Tina, on the other side, before moving up to her. For another minute or so, she only observed her. Sensing the redhead's eyes on her, Tina looked up, trying not to appear so nervous.

"How long's it been?" Amy finally asked her.

"How long…" Tina shook her head, not following.

"Since you really met the Doctor," Amy filled in, and Tina hesitated. "I'm just remembering something at the moment, and I must be getting better at this, because I can tell the difference between my memories and other people's, and this definitely doesn't feel like it belongs to me. I think it was Mike's, seeing as it came with a bit of… feeling… toward you," she admitted, and Tina didn't know whether to be amused or freaked out.

"What do you… remember?" Tina asked, unsure how to phrase it.

"I remember you, and me… I mean… you and Mike, and the Glee Club, at McKinley, and Gemma, she…" She paused, growing quiet, and it took a while before Tina figured out what had upset her so suddenly. She knew where Gemma fit in the story. She was the Doctor's companion, or she would be… in a time when Amy no longer was. Tina tried to say something, but she didn't know what. Either way, Amy had taken a breath, let it out, and they were moving onward. "The Doctor doesn't know, does he?"

"It hasn't happened to him yet," Tina confirmed.

"Like him and River Song," Amy told herself.

"Who's River Song?"

"She's a long story," Amy replied, and this subject, like Gemma, was dropped.

"You can't tell him," Tina begged.

"I have the memory, remember?" Amy pointed out. "I know that he can't know, and I won't say a word."

"Right," Tina allowed herself to relax again. "I don't know how long it'll be, from now until he goes to Lima, I don't know what he'll have done, or… gone through," she tried not to turn to look at Amy as she said this, even though she might have been looking at the furthest point away from her and the other girl would still have seen right through her. "But I think he'll be okay."

"Just because he remembers to smile, doesn't mean he's not somewhere else…" Amy replied, and before Tina could ask her to elaborate, Mike returned. The way the door snapped open and shut around him, they knew he had hurried to get himself inside.

"Kid wouldn't stop staring at me," he breathed.

"Did you get in touch with the station?" Tina asked.

"I did, and when I asked about the Doctor, described him, the girl on the phone said he had been there, but only briefly. He spoke to Trinity Wells for a few minutes, but then he left and he hasn't been back since. That was hours ago."

They'd been so busy, between Rory's memory and Mrs. Lenkov's sister, that they had lost perspective on just how long they'd been parted from the Doctor, but now that they thought about it, they knew something had to have happened in the middle. The Doctor should have been back here, waiting to yell at them, but he wasn't, and there had to be a reason. It wasn't going to be a good one.

Amy had gone to fetch Rory from whatever room he'd holed up in while she spoke to Tina. When she had him, she brought him back to the control room, filling him in on what Mike had learned.

"You don't think… something happened to him?" Tina asked, worried. It wasn't as though they had let him go on his own, he was the one who'd told them to wait while he went by himself, but even then, she felt like they shouldn't have split from him.

"If he's not at the station, and he's not here," Amy counted off, working just as plainly to not let the worries get to her, "Then he might be at the museum, we'll go and find him," she declared, leading Rory toward the door.

"What if he's not there? What if he comes back?" Mike asked, but Amy turned to look at him, and her face was locked tight.

"He'll be there," she declared, then paused, hearing the loudness in her voice. She breathed, then at a regular tone, "He has to be." Neither Mike nor Tina argued at that, so all four of them left the TARDIS and started for the museum.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	18. Eleven Lifetimes

**"Ex Memoria"**

**18. Eleven Lifetimes**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

It was hard enough to keep hold of who he was, where he was, but at the very least some part of him retained both the fact that he was not alone, and that there was something he needed to be doing. The problem was the more his memories became mixed up, the harder it became for him to figure out which hodge podge of recollections was his one current self at its core. Was he the old man or the young, brown haired or blond… _Still not ginger…_ The scarf, the celery, the bow tie… He had to get back to someone, some people, but which ones? There were so many faces in his head, and he didn't know anymore… He didn't know when he had known them, when he had left them… or they had left him… Did they live, did they die? Of course they died, at one time or another, and should he cross their timelines again…

"Remember… Remember…" he spoke though his jaw seemed clenched shut. _Susan… Sarah Jane… Rose… No, no… Zoe… Ace… Jack… Adric…_ The face swam in his thoughts, and he knew that more than one of his own faces had known him, but one of them… one of them had seen him die. For a moment he focused on that, on meeting him and losing him. He knew those events didn't always exist in sequence, but he knew they did here, and he held on to it, held it as the start in order to begin detangling his thoughts.

"Should we move him somewhere else?" he heard the young man's voice, but his name escaped him.

"No!" he grunted. "Be quiet!" he begged, still holding firmly to his own head.

For a moment he thought he'd lost his thread, but then he found it again, and he breathed. He could do this, he felt it. Maybe the two hits of infection had ravaged him in the beginning, but he was still the Doctor, still a Time Lord who had lived many, many years, too many to think himself unable to handle whatever was thrown his way. Already he could feel that focusing as he had done was helping to pool the memories to where they properly belonged. He could reassemble himself, if he only found one thing, something strong enough to make him remember what went where.

"One…" he breathed. "One day… I shall come back…" Gillian and Chris looked to one another, baffled as to what the Doctor might be talking about but at the same time thinking better than to interrupt him again. But it was working, he was starting to feel it. "You're making me giddy! No, you can't do this to me! No! No! No! No!"

"What do we do?" Chris whispered, almost reaching for the Doctor before his boss stopped him. "He could hurt himself," Chris protested. When the Doctor sprang up in a seated position, they startled and turned back to him.

"The Nestenes can put life into anything made of plastic. Anything at all," he spoke, before grasping his head again, muttering incoherently. "Until we meet again, Sarah," he spoke after a while, though his voice had a tinge of sadness about it.

He saw the boy's face again, and if nothing else then he knew by then that he was on the right track. He was nearly halfway there, wasn't he? There were eleven, although sometimes it felt like there were more… It only made matters worse that at times he could sense his memories were starting to align themselves of their own accord, while at other times, he could only feel his body twist and spasm like it was trying to find the posture of a body long gone.

"Planets come and go. Stars perish. Matter disperses, coalesces, forms into other patterns, other worlds. Nothing can be eternal," he spoke again, then paused as though reflecting on his own words. No sooner did he end his reflections that more thoughts came together, as though it was easier now that he had removed so many of the others already. "There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, and the sea's asleep, and the rivers dream; people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice, and somewhere else the tea's getting cold. Come on, Ace. We've got work to do."

"I think he's getting better," Gillian breathed.

"These shoes! They fit _perfectly_!" the Doctor proclaimed.

"Maybe not," Chris frowned.

It had all been coming faster and faster, but here it felt as though there was something missing, or in the way, and he didn't know what it was or understand what he lacked, like his brain refused to remember. The next thing he knew, he was rising to his feet, and he had moved on. He was so close… so close… He turned back to Gillian and Chris.

"The assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get through that door, and, believe me, they've tried," he nodded firmly. The curator and her assistant turned a brief, confused gaze toward the door behind the Doctor, but he was still not entirely paying attention to them. He was standing there as though he might have been sprinting for the finish line. "Oh, that's rude," he blinked. "Is that the sort of man I am now? Am I rude? Rude and not ginger…"

His smile returned then, and he lunged forward to clap Gillian and Chris by the shoulders, looking at each of them. They didn't moved; they didn't know what else to do.

"I know which one I am now, I do!" he reached to his throat and let out a small laugh when his fingers grazed the bow tie. "Fancy a fez right about now," he breathed, but then getting back on point. "No, but hold on, I still have your memory," he pointed to Gillian. "There was a man, I saw, he…"

Right then there was a rushed sound of knocking at the door, and he could tell already who he would find there as he pushed in between the people before him and hurried to open the door.

"Amelia Pond!" he pulled her into the room, giving little mind to the other three who followed behind her.

"We were worried, we… Are you okay?" she asked, seeing the strange look on his face.

"No, sheer lunacy," he pointed to his head. "But never mind that, you're late, and I know where we need to go now."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	19. Clumsy Start

**"Ex Memoria"**

**19. Clumsy Start**

_May 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

They needed to have this done before they got back on the bus. They knew at the worst they could keep at it later, but if they were to start here and not finish, then the odds were that they would lose their window of opportunity, and Mike and Tina would never hear them out again.

But the problem was that they _were_ pressed for time, and as tended to be the case, this made for rush judgments and bad ideas.

They couldn't crowd up around the pair of them, and they couldn't do what they tended to do when they were at school, which was to pull whoever they wanted to speak to into an empty classroom or broom closet. But then they did know they would be going through an exhibit soon, so the obvious solution became that they should find a way to fall behind from the group and make sure Tina and Mike fell behind as well. If anyone asked, they could say it was 'special Glee Club business.' The worst thing they had to look forward to, if this fell through, was not so much the wrath of Sylvester but the wrath of Berry.

Santana had wanted them to go to Gemma and make her do the same thing she'd done with Blaine, which was to fetch a note from the future Mike and Tina, but the others were of a mind that if this was an option in any way, the substitute would have brought it up. It seemed more likely that the Blaine thing had been a one-time exception, so they were on their own.

Puck had been willing to deface one artifact or another, to make it seem as though the Doctor had been there. This was immediately shot down by the rest of the group.

Brittany wanted to pretend she was possessed by an alien, to which they had needed to point out it would be too far, too involved, especially since they had no expectations of actually seeing the Doctor anytime soon. Brittany promised she wouldn't mind carrying on the charade, but still the idea was thrown away.

Before they could end up spitting out more and more terrible ideas, they had come to the conclusion that it might have been a better idea to be straightforward with the truth. They had enough stories amongst themselves, and if necessary they could somehow manage to throw Mike and Tina on to Kurt, Blaine, and Sam, so that they could give the others even more reason to trust what they had been told. It was as hit or miss as it got, but they had to go forward believing that they could succeed, or they would face plant… hard.

"Uh… I know my vantage point is a bit low right now," Quinn frowned, "But where did they go?"

The others looked up, around. They'd lost sight of Mike and Tina. No matter where they turned, they could not spot them.

"Alright, let's split up and look for them, we've already been too grouped up for too long. Spread out, go," Puck nudged them to separate before getting hold of the back of Artie's chair so to guide him along.

"No running," Artie warned, already too aware of the way Puck could get if allowed to steer him.

"Relax," he chuckled, which did not do anything to reassure Artie.

"They can't have gotten far, right?" he asked, hoping it might calm him down, on top of giving Puck a reason not to speed off.

"Maybe they went off somewhere to hook up," Puck offered, which earned him a pointed glare from Artie, whether he saw it or not.

"Artie!" a voice called loudly from further on, and if it had startled him and Puck, it couldn't have escaped the rest of the field trip group, students, chaperones and guides alike. They didn't have much of a choice but to look up and see an aggravated Santana trying to make herself inconspicuous by Brittany's side, while the blonde was waving her arm at the boys to get their attention.

"Why would you even…" Artie muttered, while Puck was trying to very discreetly to get her to stop. At least Santana was able to finally silence her, but then they had at least achieved their goal. They spotted Tina and Mike out of the crowd, so they knew where they had to get themselves to. The one thing they knew now was that Brittany was 'out,' as far as the Tina/Mike mission. If she went up to them now, they would ask her what she'd been up to, and it would only make it look as though it was a prank after all.

They would have to let a few minutes go by, with peace and quiet restored, or else they would fail. They couldn't get those minutes back.

"We have to get over there before someone else messes it up," Puck told him as they went on.

"Okay, but we have to…" Artie started to say, then paused.

They were too far back, which prevented them from hearing what was being said, but before they knew it, Mike and Tina had been approached by Sam and Blaine, and a few seconds later, they had walked off with Tina. A moment later, Kurt was at Mike's side, and it didn't matter whether or not they heard, the tip of the head translated clearly as 'I need to talk you, let's go somewhere else.' Mike followed Kurt, and looking around, Artie and Puck knew the others had seen this, too.

"What just happened?" Puck asked.

"I'm not sure," Artie frowned. "But I think they know…"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	20. The Business Of

**"Ex Memoria"**

**20. The Business Of**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

Once the Doctor had explained enough of what he had seen and what needed to be done, the conclusion had quickly been reached that they needed to split up. For all the concern they had on the matter, they didn't feel they had much of a choice. So, while the Doctor went chasing after his lead with Amy and Rory on his tail, Mike and Tina remained with Gillian Moran Fiorentino and followed her to go and see her boss. The painting, the infected painting, needed to be removed from the exhibit and isolated where it could not infect any other people.

This would prove easier said than done.

While Chris was rather accommodating as assistants went, the woman whose desk was posted outside the upper office felt much more like a guard or some predatory bird than an assistant. If she was instructed not to let anyone through, no one would get through.

She was on the phone when they approached, and by the number of flashing lights on the machine, and the hunch in her shoulders as she spoke, it looked as though the report from Trinity Wells had sent the city into a frenzy. They didn't waste time wondering one way or the other, and they slipped by the desk while the woman's head was done, hoping she would not notice them. Gillian quickly rapped at the door and opened it, letting herself in, followed by Tina, then Mike, who shut the door behind them.

"Miss Moran Fiorentino, what are you…" the man pacing before the window stopped and looked at them. Thomas Banks had been running the museum longer than Gillian had been alive, by the way he spoke about it at times, and he had always had a firm and confident look about him, but today… today he looked downright frazzled.

"Mr. Banks, I need to talk to you about something very…" Gillian started to say.

"Do you know what that Wells woman has been saying on the news? A gas leak? There's no leak, there isn't! But she's got the city convinced, and now…"

"Mr. Banks!" Gillian cut him off, just as she'd been cut off, and she might have smacked him in the face and he would have had the same look about him. "There is a critical matter at hand, not a gas leak, but something potentially much worse, and we need to act now before it's too late." His gaze fixed on her, and the way his finger took a few light jabs up in her direction, they could see he was beginning to wonder if she was behind this Trinity Wells situation. "I need your authorization to remove and isolate one of the paintings, it's…" she moved up to his desk, holding out a print out of information, which included a small photo of the work in question. The Doctor had assured her it would be harmless, only the painting itself could infect them. At this point, the people who had been exposed were more of a threat, and all the print out could do was to give someone a papercut.

"I will do no such thing, no," Mr. Banks shook his head. "Why would I even…"

"People's lives are at risk, sir," Tina stepped up.

"Maybe you should shut down the museum until…" Mike started to add, but that was where Banks drew the line, and before they knew it, the trio was chased out of his office, the old man's voice booming after them. The hawk at the desk outside stared up, first at the door, and then at Gillian and the strangers, and her glare narrowed. So they hurried away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said…"

"No, but you were right," Gillian promised, shaking her head. They had not known the woman before she'd become infected by the painting, so it was hard to know what she would have been like back then, but there was a new sort of energy about her, ever since she'd been 'cured' by the Doctor. They wondered if it was simply out of a gladness to be right minded again, or if it was whatever part of the Doctor which had passed on into her that had worked some bit of rejuvenation into her heart and mind. She could very likely lose her job over this, and she didn't look like she cared one bit.

"So… what do we do now?" Tina asked as they took to the stairs to return to Gillian's office, where Chris was waiting.

"Maybe we should wait for the Doctor to come back, see what he's found out," Mike suggested. It was the sound thing to do, but then it wasn't just about that anymore.

"We will," Gillian agreed.

"The museum won't close, and people are still coming," Tina pointed out. "We need to try and keep them away from the painting, if no one will take it down."

With Chris rejoined to their small group, they had moved into action. Gillian and Chris played diversion within the museum. Seeing as they worked there and had the ID to prove it, they had that authority on their side. Meanwhile, Mike and Tina did the best they could to redirect anyone who came around with the intention of going inside, making it seem as though they were leaving, too, having just heard about the report. It didn't always work, but they did get some people to leave, while the others, hopefully, would be deterred by Gillian and Chris.

They'd been at this for a while before Tina's phone rang, and she motioned for Mike to come to her: it was the Doctor. He and Amy and Rory were back at the TARDIS, and he wanted them to come right away.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	21. Bigger on the Inside

**"Ex Memoria"**

**21. Bigger on the Inside**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

If it had been up to the Doctor, he might have just run out of the museum, as though he would magically find himself standing before the one they needed to find. But then after a brief search conducted by Chris, they had confirmed the person they sought to find was the painting's owner, and they had been given an address to go to. So while Mike and Tina followed Gillian up to her boss' office, the Doctor, Amy and Rory headed out in search of the painting's owner.

The Doctor was as good as a dog on a scent now. He had caught on to something, they couldn't say what, after sorting out the memory he'd pulled from Gillian, and now he intended to locate its source. None of them were prepared for what they found when the trail toward the owner's address and the source the Doctor had been tracking brought them to stand in front of a tall, imposing building that might have been an office building but that came off in the end more like an evil lair.

"Does anyone else feel a bit underdressed?" Rory commented.

"I don't," the Doctor shrugged, fixing his bow tie. Amy hardly seemed concerned either. So they went in.

Their silence hadn't been a decision, but it had fallen on them as heavy as thick snow. That was the sentiment this place inspired. It looked like something straight out of some futuristic movie, a sentiment only Amy and Rory shared, of course.

The primary reason for this feeling had been the glasses. All the employees they encountered wore the identical transparent glasses. They reminded Amy of the kind of thing one might put on before they went to cut wood or metal, but they looked more high tech, and sturdier, too.

"What do they all have those for?" she whispered to Rory.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" he told her. "Has to prevent them from being infected," Rory nodded confidently.

"Oh… right…" Amy tried not to look the way she felt for not having figured this out alone. Rory only nodded. They were all in the same boat at this point, trying to focus on keeping their memories in place while doing their best to still think straight.

"Right, everyone, follow my lead," the Doctor muttered as they approached the receptionist in her glass frames. "Excuse me, if I may speak to a Mr. John Brown. Important… art… business," he briefly explained, then bowed his head, satisfied. The receptionist barely paid him attention.

"Mr. Brown is unavailable at the moment, he…"

"He'll want to speak with me," the Doctor promised, flashing her the psychic paper. It was anyone's guess whether this would work or not. With the glasses, it might have been that it would interfere with the psychic paper as well as the memory infection. But instead the receptionist hurried from the desk and toward and office. When she returned, she indicated with all the courtesy in her for the Doctor and the others to step into the office.

They were brought beverages, while the Doctor and his companions were invited to sit and wait briefly until such a time as Mr. Brown became available, which the receptionist assured would not be long at all.

But by the time they had finished out their beverages, which they had done as slowly and casually as one might, they began to wonder if this promised promptness might not have been exaggerated. Ten minutes turned into twenty, and this doubled over as well, tripled even, until an hour had gone by.

In this time, they had all three of them done their best not to appear in any way perturbed, even though patience was not something they handled all that well at present time. The Doctor had dug a hand in his pocket, down near to the elbow, and pulled out a battered old edition – old with comparison to the amount of time the Doctor had possessed it, as it wouldn't be published for several hundred years – of the Mousetrap, and made an effort to concentrate on it instead of his rising frustration. In the meantime, Amy had shown herself developing the skill to push her own memories to Rory's head, and she used this, generally speaking, as a cheap trick to see if he would be able to keep from reacting. Judging by the rising flush in his ears, it was a struggle.

It wasn't until she overshot and ended up sending it to the Doctor, who promptly dropped his book and smacked a hand over his eyes, that she forced herself to stop, sitting properly again.

"I don't think he's coming," Rory whispered, his voice tremulous.

"No, I can't imagine he is," the Doctor agreed, eventually leaning forward to pick up his book and stuff it back into his pocket.

"So, they're protected, because of those glasses," Amy jumped in. "But we're not. And we've been sitting here all this time…" The Doctor stood.

"We should leave, while we still can, if we still… can… Rory, do you need a moment?" he asked, not meeting his eye. Rory looked to him, then back to Amy, then stood with a frown. "Good, now as calm and collected as possible, yes?" he instructed, and they did as told.

Amy half expected for some big burly guards, or possibly aliens, to stand in their way to stop them. None of it happened. They would leave the building without notice or incident, even after the Doctor had found a way to steal a couple of pairs of those protective glasses and stuck them in his pocket to join his book. Neither Amy nor Rory asked him what that was about, but they guessed they'd figure it out in time. If they could be glad of one thing, it was that the look on the Doctor's face suggested they had not wasted their time sitting in wait of the elusive Mr. Brown.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	22. Last Resorts

**"Ex Memoria"**

**22. Last Resorts**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

Mike and Tina had left Gillian and Chris to carry on with crowd control when they'd been called to return to the TARDIS. For having been dedicated to their previous task as they had been, they hadn't realized that the others might have been left to wait as long as they'd done. They reached the blue box, and Mike knocked on the door, as he argued that it wouldn't have been right to simply let themselves in. When the Doctor opened the door, he wordlessly pulled the pair into the ship before shutting the door and striding back to his pair of companions.

Rory was wearing a pair of transparent glasses, sitting across from Amy while she stared at him with so much concentration that she might have been trying to move him with her mind.

"Anything?" the Doctor asked them, giving no more mind to Mike or Tina at this time. Amy sighed and sat back.

"Nothing," she shook her head, while Rory briefly touched his glasses, barely hiding a small smile on his face. "I saw that," Amy made to reach for the glasses, but he slipped away.

"What are those, did you make them?" Tina asked, and the others turned, noticing them as if for the first time.

"Stole them," Amy corrected. "Well, he did," she pointed to the Doctor.

"We went to see the owner of the painting," Rory explained. "Some corporate office, and everyone there wore these. It blocks the memories from going."

"Mr. Brown wasn't all too helpful, or… present, at all. But that's alright," the Doctor insisted, pulling a handful of other frames from a box propped up on the console and distributing them. "Now that I've isolated the memory block, I've added it to these. You'll wear them at all times until this is sorted, especially with what we're about to do next."

"Which is what?" Tina asked, putting on one pair of glasses and turning to Mike on reflex to see if they looked alright. Even as she'd just put them on, she could feel something was different. She wouldn't have noticed anything, and she hadn't, from the time when she had been infected, but now that it was blocked, she couldn't see how she hadn't noticed it before.

"We're going to steal the painting," the Doctor revealed, as though it should have been the most logical response. The looks he received in return from both the Ponds and the Changs in their turn revealed that maybe it wasn't.

"I'm sorry, but what?" Amy asked.

"You want to rob a museum?" Rory followed.

"Not the whole museum, just the one painting," the Doctor sounded defensive. "This Mr. Banks from the museum won't shut the place down or remove the painting. What else would you suggest we do?"

No one replied. As much as they would have tried to, when it came down to it, there was no other alternative at their disposal. "Continue," Amy spoke.

"Thank you. Good, yes," the Doctor clapped his hands together, and it was anyone's guess whether or not he was even trying not to sound excited at the prospect of doing this. After all, it was strictly in the intent of doing good, so there was no reason to feel guilty at all. "Now…"

"Are we just going to fly the TARDIS into the museum?" Mike asked.

"We could," the Doctor nodded. "If we wanted to risk the infection crossing with my ship, yes, that is exactly what we would do, but since we don't, we will choose another way." Mike didn't reply. Instead, Tina raised her hand. "Yes?" the Doctor asked.

"I have an idea," she answered.

"I gathered as much, go on."

"Well, we could do like those robbers did in Home Alone 2, you know?" Tina looked to Mike, who smirked.

"I'm sorry, I don't follow…" the Doctor blinked.

"You mean hide inside during opening hours and wait for it to close?" Amy replied, and Tina nodded.

"Gillian was hidden down in that room she was in for a long time, and no one came or noticed she was there. So we go in, and we wait until after the museum's closed, and then we get the painting." She looked to the Doctor, waiting for his response, knowing his word would be final but also hoping he would actually agree with her. He remained standing there in silence for so long that she had started to think he was ignoring her idea altogether, but then he sprang back up, startling them all.

"Right, let's get everything we need," he declared, and it was settled.

Thanks to a trip to the TARDIS' wardrobe, the five of them were able not only to dress themselves in a less conspicuous way, but also to utilize the Doctor's bigger-on-the-inside pockets, the better to carry along any needed supplies into the museum without drawing any attention to themselves. Rory had insisted to pack some medical supplies, just in case, while Mike packed some food, in case they got hungry while they were stuck waiting.

They returned to the museum, finding Chris and Gillian sitting outside, decidedly away from the perimeter. Tina saw them there and she knew.

"He fired you, didn't he?" she asked the pair, and they nodded.

"What do we have to do?" Gillian asked, without letting the subject draw on any further than it had to.

The Doctor and the others pulled them away, the better to explain the plan. Chris looked more concerned, but Gillian Moran Fiorentino had very nearly lost her mind because of this painting, would have lost it for certain if not for the Doctor, so losing her job didn't matter as much as putting an end to this. She helped them by telling them how to get her hiding room without being seen, and as the other five entered the museum, she and Chris went off to wait at the nearby all-night diner, the better to be within reach if the others needed them. It would be hours yet, but for all intents and purposes, the heist was on.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	23. New Approach

_A/N: Yeeeeah so things are still kind of crazy right around now, and especially this week, since my plan was/is to post two chapters a day of this story for seven days, with the remaining fourteen chapters... So here come six chapters now, which were meant for Thursday, and yesterday, and today._

* * *

**"Ex Memoria"**

**23. New Approach**

_May 2012 - Lima, Ohio_

It felt so much simpler to convince one and have them there to convince the other, and if they had to choose a starter, it was Mike all the way. Kurt would do the talking, so this left Blaine and Sam on duty to divert Tina and keep her busy for a few minutes. He didn't know what they told her, but it must have worked, because as he came in play, they had disappeared with her, and Mike was alone.

"Hey," Kurt stepped up to Mike.

"Hey, are you looking for Blaine? He was just..."

"No, no, I've actually been hoping to talk to you about something," Kurt told him, carefully redirecting him out of the throng of students.

"Okay?" Mike hesitated.

"Haven't you been noticing all these strange things happening at school these last six months or so?" Kurt slowly asked. "Ever since she came," he nodded for Mike to follow his gaze.

"Miss Harrison?" he asked.

"She's not who she says she is," Kurt whispered. Mike may not have been convinced just yet, but already Kurt could feel his curiosity winning out.

"I don't get it..." he shook his head.

"I didn't know at first, same as you, but now I do."

"Why are you telling me then?"

"A lot of us know already, so why not?" Kurt shrugged. "But," he raised a finger. "You can't tell anyone." He knew he could just as easily lose him as he could win him at this point. He needed to tip the scales in his favor. "I know what it's going to sound like, and believe me, I needed as much convincing as anyone if not more. I wouldn't be telling you if I didn't believe it, because it will sound crazy... Except there's been proof. I'm just one of those who had to be told about it, but there's those who've seen for themselves."

It was all talk for now, he knew, but then the more involved and believable he could make himself sound, it would press his point, he knew. And he could see it, no matter how he kept quiet, Mike wed standing by and listening.

"I'm just going to come right out with it, because dragging it out isn't going to make it any less unbelievable. Miss Harrison, she's from the future."

Mike stared at him, as one might when they waited for a smirk or a laugh. He got none.

"She hasn't said by how much, but we don't think it can be by very much," Kurt went on instead, and Mike went on with his silence. "But that's only the start, and I'm hoping it's a good sign you haven't walked away yet."

"This isn't because I said it would be cool to go back in time and all that, is it?" Mike asked.

"You said that?" Kurt asked; he honestly had not known. "But no, it has nothing to do with that, although play your cards right and you might get your wish eventually. See, the reason Gemma's here..."

"Gemma?"

"That's her real name," Kurt paused, remembering he hadn't said it before. "Anyway, she's here because of this other person called the Doctor." The last thing he would have expected here would be recognition, but at the mention of the Doctor's name, there had been the slightest flicker of a memory in Mike's eyes. "What?"

"It's nothing, just... I overheard Brittany talking to Santana once, I think... weeks ago. Made no sense, but I figured that was just Brittany... But they mentioned someone, a doctor..."

"Yeah, that's the one," Kurt jumped on this chance, at the same time wondering if anyone else had ever heard any of them, and whether or not it would later come back to bite them. "He..." he decided to leave the gender issue for later, "He's a time traveller, she travels with him, Gemma does, in time and... and in space."

"So, aliens?" Mike frowned, doubtful again.

"Well... the Doctor's one, for starters."

"Hummel!" They turned, startled by the shout. Santana was marching their way, cutting through the crowd, with Brittany and Sugar on her tail.

"Oh, great," Kurt sighed.

"What kind of game are you playing at? You weren't even..."

"Even supposed to know you were going to tell him about the Doctor?" Kurt filled in.

"What?" Mike blurted out.

"You already told him?" Santana understood.

"Hey, be cool," Brittany breathed; she hadn't caught on, still believing Mike didn't know.

"Because you guys were doing do well," Kurt frowned.

"You're really not joking?" Mike looked to Kurt, who resisted turning a triumphant look to Santana.

"I'm really not. They all met him," he pointed to the girls, turning to them so they might help seal the deal.

"I met him when I was six years old," Sugar spoke, though she kept this response as brief as one could.

"We met him a couple years back, that trip to the Grand Canyon," Santana eventually volunteered, at the same time keeping an eye on Brittany so she wouldn't just blurt out how she was turned into a cat.

"I was there, I didn't see anything," Mike pointed out, but even as he said this, he did remember how they'd disappeared for a while. He'd been there with Matt and they had covered for them; it had been one of the things that had made the four of them friends.

"You okay?" Kurt asked.

"I... I need to go and think," he replied, walking off.

"If this craps out, it's your fault," Santana told Kurt.

"Yeah, that's what I figured."

TO BE CONTINUED (TODAY)


	24. The Hit

**"Ex Memoria"**

**24. The Hit**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

The wait had become harder and harder to manage as time went on, which would at times lead to any one of them cooped up in the darkened room to momentarily pull off their glasses before they remembered why they were wearing them in the first place and quickly slip them back on.

They had agreed to wait two hours at the least once the museum had closed for the night. Having already been waiting several hours, those last few hadn't felt nearly as much like a breeze as they might have hoped that they might. Instead, it left them fighting their own instincts, stir crazy as they were.

"Right," the Doctor sprang from his seat, shaking out frustrated limbs. "The museum has been closed for two hours, fourteen minutes. It's time, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, I'd say," Amy gladly stood.

They had had more than enough time to figure out how best to execute their plan, but there was still a brief instance of nerves, knowing they were about to really do what they were about to do. The Doctor opened the door.

Scaling their way from Gillian's old hiding room, up to the exhibit floor where the painting waited, fully minding the presence of any number of security guards, measures, and cameras all along their path. All it would take would be a single misstep on their part and they'd be done. Their number was problematic when they were only five, but then there came a sixth.

They had been turning into the stairs when they opened the door and found Gillian Moran Fiorentino hiding in wait. There were several hands sent to cover shocked mouths, several strangled shrieks.

"What are you doing here?" Amy whispered.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't sit out there and do nothing. Banks or no, this is my exhibit," she whispered back.

"Gillian, you are still susceptible," the Doctor warned her. "More than anyone here…"

"I understand," she assured him. "I still want to help." The Doctor breathed out, then he nodded.

"We must keep on moving."

Now six strong, the group continued its cautious advance. In whispers, Gillian had inquired about the glasses they all wore, and they had only just explained it to her that it dawned on them they had no extras, which meant she wouldn't have a pair of her own.

They couldn't go back, and they didn't. They were going to make do with what they had. The Doctor wanted to give her his pair, but she wouldn't have it. She could be as stubborn as he was.

The argument had been ended when they had come just shy of being caught by one of the night guards. They only managed to scramble for cover, and once they were certain that the guard had gone the Doctor made it very clear if he'd only managed to find one of his perception filters they could have done away with this sneaking around. But he hadn't found anything. As heists went, he was not impressed with his performance.

All things considered though, they came to the painting before long, exactly when they had needed to, exactly when they had needed to, after the guards had made their rounds here. Gillian had to be kept away, so she wouldn't be ensnared all over again.

There were some rampant concerns over whether the glasses would end up failing or slipping from their faces. As an extra precaution, they had gloves. They had never physically touched it and they weren't anxious to change that.

The removal of the frame from the wall was the most stressful point of their plan. They had to mind the infection, however it was generated, and they also had alarms to keep from tripping. Gillian, Amy, Tina, and Mike spread out to keep an eye on guards or cameras, while the Doctor recruited Rory to assist him.

It wasn't nearly as hard as they'd thought it would be, which they guessed would make sense. If anyone unprotected could only come to stand there, frozen by the infection, then there was little concern that anyone would get close enough to touch it. Even then, they didn't let themselves get too at ease. There could still be something they weren't seeing.

Even there, they would later come to the conclusion that maybe they had let themselves get too comfortable. It was going to be another hurdle for them to exit the museum instead of hide inside it, but then they'd already gotten the painting…

They heard hurried footsteps first, then a rush of voices, and then they knew that, although they had not been caught – yet – the guards were aware of an intruding presence and they would come to find it before long.

Soon it was frenzy, and not one of them could say they really knew what happened until it was all done.

Somehow Tina had received the painting, and now both she and Gillian landed in a somewhat secure hiding place. Just how much time it would afford them was left to be seen, but for the time being it had simply come off as the thing to do.

Rory found himself tagging the Doctor as he ran, and it wasn't until they came upon a way out that, much to his dismay, he realized Amy wasn't behind him like he'd thought she was. He wanted to go back for her, but the Doctor forced him out, promising they would get her.

For now, the only getting that came to pass was when the security guards cornered Amy and Mike. The pair had quickly presented their hands, showing themselves unarmed in the hopes of being equally unharmed. The guards hadn't hurt them except maybe with the slight force involved when pairs of cuffs were stuck around their wrists. In the struggle their glasses slipped and fell. Rather than drawing attention to them, in case it led to more questions, Amy and Mike relented themselves not to say anything as they were led out to where they might be handed over to the police. Now their hopes were passed on to the rest of their group. They still had work to do.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	25. The Loot

**"Ex Memoria"**

**25. The Loot**

_Chicago, Illinois - in the year 2021_

There had been that urge in them, as they kept huddled behind the door and heard the muffled sounds of the guards having surrounded some or all of the others, to spring out to their assistance, but then here they were with the painting, the one true evidence of their intentions here that day. If they went out and the painting was taken away, they might never get another shot at stopping the infection. So, as difficult as it was, especially for Tina, left wondering if her husband was safe, both Tina and Gillian stayed put and kept quiet.

When the noises outside had ceased entirely, the room felt suddenly massive, a giant's land for how small the two women felt.

"What do we do now?" Tina asked, looking to Gillian. The curator blinked, distracted, then sat up, looking down at the frame propped up against the wall.

"We need to stop it from doing whatever it is it does, right?" she moved to reach for it, but Tina stopped her hand.

"Wait," she said. "Maybe you shouldn't touch it," she pointed out, showing her gloved hands; it was another of the Doctor's precautions. "I can give them to you, you'll know better, being a curator and all," she started to pull one off.

"No, you're right. Besides, I can appraise it as well as anyone, but we're not trying to preserve it, are we? As far as I'm concerned , I never want to see that thing anymore, much less touch it, so... you do it."

"Are you sure?" Tina asked, and Gillian nodded. "Well, whatever it is, if it's something we can see, it's not on the front," she scooter forward toward the frame. When they'd set it down, they had placed the front against the wall so they wouldn't have to look at it and run the risk - especially in Gillian's case - of being infected again.

"But it is the canvas, has to be. It wasn't the frame that drew our eyes, although… it _is_ a frame, it… contains."

"Right," Tina spoke, though she wasn't sure what Gillian was getting at.

"So maybe it _is_ the frame. The painting itself is so unremarkable, it's a wonder I ever agreed to display it. It's possible then that the image itself is of no concern. They could have inserted a blank canvas and it would have worked all the same."

"Oh… Right," Tina said again, though this time for understanding's sake. "Then we need to get the painting out first?" she guessed, and Gillian nodded. Tina looked at the frame, touching it cautiously with her gloved fingers. "Then it's in your capacities after all." Gillian held out her hand, and Tina peeled off the gloves to hand them over.

After putting them on, Gillian had come closer. Had she been more concerned with protecting any part of the 'art work' she might have been more careful. And if she had been more careful, she wouldn't have torn one of the gloves. But she wasn't, so she did, unbeknownst to either of them.

It did become clear though, when just as she was prying the canvas from the frame, Gillian suddenly stopped, her gaze becoming unfocused, before her hand trembled… and she fell aside, unconscious.

"Gillian?" Tina gasped, leaning over her. "Gillian?" she called again, as loud as she could allow in their current situation. She tried tapping the woman's cheek, to rouse her, but she didn't stir. She was still breathing, as Tina had made sure to check, but she was out cold.

Tina had picked up the curator's hands, guessing correctly that she would find a tear in the thin latex. Taking it off the slender hand, Tina saw, just where the glove had torn, a red welt, as though Gillian had been burned. It wasn't a regular burn though, and without the Doctor she didn't know that she had any hope of helping her.

Now it was coming down to her, to deal with this frame. She hoped Gillian had been right; she didn't have her expertise.

Taking the one still intact glove off the unconscious Miss Moran Fiorentino's hand, Tina slipped it back on her hand. She was shaking. It was one thing to try and do this with two hands, but now she only had the one glove. She knew what a direct touch could do now, and she wasn't about to risk that either. She was going to have to disable the frame one-handed.

For a minute, she sat back on the ground, breathing nervously. If she hadn't known the Doctor and what he could do from her previous encounter with him almost a decade prior, she would have had more reasons to be scared. But she knew of the Time Lord. She didn't know Amy or Rory very well, but if they were anything like other Doctor's companions she'd met, then she did feel she could trust in their coming to her aid in time, too. And she knew her husband. Of all of them, she knew Mike wouldn't abandon her if it was in him to come and help her. She wasn't nearly as alone as she might have seemed.

A few more breaths taken, she pulled herself back on to her knees. Before anything, she checked back on Gillian. She still hadn't moved, but then a she looked at her, Tina had an idea.

"Sorry, not feeling you up," she promised as she fished for her pockets until she got hold of her phone. She only had to scroll briefly before she had the right number.

"Miss Moran F…"

"Chris, it's me," Tina cut him off.

"Where's…" he started to ask.

"She's unconscious," Tina revealed, quickly filling him in to the whole situation. "Listen, I know you're her assistant, so you might be able to help me here."

"Help…"

"It doesn't look like anything to me, but you might know. So if I send you pictures, can you help me stop this thing?"

"I'll do what I can."

TO BE CONTINUED (TODAY)


	26. Unity

**"Ex Memoria"**

**26. Unity**

_May 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

The field trip was nearly over, and before long they had all been gathered in such a way that the group had decided it wouldn't be too questionable for them to gather and speak amongst themselves for a beat.

Santana had pulled Kurt along, with Brittany and Sugar trailing behind in such a way that they might have been there to make sure he didn't escape them. Their approach had attracted the others, Puck, and Quinn, and Mercedes, and Artie to join them, and even Sam and Blaine, who had left Tina only to see Kurt ushered away by the Cheerio.

"Well, he probably messed it all up," Santana declared to the rest.

"I did not mess anything up," he frowned, pulling his arm free.

"What happened?" Quinn asked.

"I told Mike the truth," Kurt told her, and the others spoke all at once. After they had been silenced, he went on. "Can't be sure, but I think he believed me.

"Says you," Santana frowned.

"Maybe if you hadn't been so bent on keeping us out of this…" Sam complained, only getting an eye roll in return. "We're just as good."

"Better, if you ask me," Blaine tipped a nod of confidence toward his boyfriend, who smiled.

"Then it's a good thing we didn't," Santana threw back, sighing before looking around the group. "Now what do we do?"

"If Mike does believe it, he might tell Tina," Artie suggested.

"He'll probably forget half of it, and then he'll screw it up," Puck frowned.

"He might now," Quinn countered.

"How about we get in there while we still can?" Kurt added. "We can talk to Tina, me, and Artie and Mercedes."

"Why you?" Sugar asked.

"We've been her friends the longest," Kurt pointed out. "If she'll trust anyone, it'll be us."

"Okay, but none of those tricks with her," Mercedes spoke up. "We have to be straight with her."

"So go," Quinn told her. "She'll talk to Mike first otherwise." With that, Kurt, Artie, and Mercedes had split from the group in search of Tina.

As they were walking through, they'd found themselves standing in front of Gemma, and it wasn't until she handed Artie something that they figured out it might have been an intentional encounter.

"What's this?" Artie asked, feeling the pouch in his palm and reaching to open it with his other hand.

"Don't," she stopped him. "Just when you go to her, let her have it. She'll know what it is. You guys looked like you might need help."

And she'd wandered off, leaving them to stop and wonder. But then they saw Tina, and they hurried to her.

"Tina!" Mercedes called to her as they neared. She turned.

"Have you seen Mike? I was trying to…"

"Haven't seen him, no, sorry," Artie spoke, a little too fast even for him. "But look, we have something for you, I'm not sure what it…" he held up the pouch. As soon as she saw it, Tina's eyes bugged out and she snatched it up.

She'd only been seven years old the last time she'd seen it, but she knew beyond a doubt that it was the same one. It was striped, black and white vertically, but with one red horizontal stripe along the middle, the same color as the string that held it shut.

Slowly, she'd opened the pouch, peering inside rather than emptying out the contents, which left the trio standing before her as clueless as they had been before.

"Who gave it to you?" Tina asked.

"Uh… well…" Artie hesitated.

"Miss Harrison," Kurt answered truthfully. Tina paused to think, and she smiled.

"It was her?" she asked herself before turning to her friends. "She said whoever gave it back to me would have something important to tell me and I would have to listen."

"Wait, this was yours?" Mercedes asked.

"Come to think of it, I think she was wearing the same thing she is now," Tina blinked. "But how's that possible, she…"

"She can travel in time," Artie revealed. "That's what we had to say. Well, part of it."

"In… in time?" Tina asked, clutching the striped keepsake she'd only just received; it looked just as new as it had been a decade ago. "What else could there be?" The trio shared a quiet look.

"We'll tell you everything, but when we're done, you need to do two things. One, you can't tell anyone, two, you have to convince Mike. We tried to tell him, but we're not sure he believes it yet," Kurt told her.

"Is that why Blaine and Sam made me go with them?" realization dawned on her. The trio nodded. "Okay, I promise," she told them.

They laid out the story for her. Every time a new, slightly unbelievable element was brought up, she gave the pouch a squeeze, as though to remind herself that it was all real, and she could trust them.

When they had finished, Tina had been almost surprised at how much she had started to believe them, not even because of the pouch. It was incredible sometimes, how many strange things could be happening around them, unbeknownst to them, but when the truth was revealed, suddenly all the pieces fit together like they always had. That was what it felt like here, to realize that some things had been happening at her school for months, right under her nose, and she had completely ignored them. Now she knew, and however much she would have denied that it could ever be real before, now with the pouch clutched in her hand, she was firm in the belief that every word her friends told her was true. Soon she left them to do as they'd asked. She went and found Mike so that she might share with him the story of how she'd come to be parted from the small cloth thing.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	27. The Guilty

**"Ex Memoria"**

**27. The Guilty**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

By the time they had been escorted out of the museum and into the police car waiting for them, both Amy and Mike had settled into a decisively locked down expression. They would not show fear, or guilt, in any way. They would also remain silent as long as they could. The longer they did that, the longer it would be before anyone had anything they could use on them. Even then, they would have to figure something out eventually, and for those brief seconds where they were alone in the car, they looked to one another.

"You okay?" Mike asked Amy.

"I'm fine, you?"

"I think so, yeah," he frowned, resettling to try and diminish the discomfort brought on by the cuffs. "Look, let me talk if we have to. You're not from around… now," he pointed out.

"What about you? You _are_ from around now, you live here. They'll put you in jail."

"They have nothing on us, look, I'll think of something, I…"

They fell quiet again as the front doors opened and the two officers climbed in. The car took off, with sirens on, and that was all that would be heard as they rode on to the precinct. They knew what would happen once they got there, but they couldn't show themselves in any way troubled by this impending separation. They allowed themselves to be brought from the car, up into the building, and then led off, one through one door, the other through another.

In one room, Amy wondered what would happen when the fingerprints collected from her by a girl who couldn't have been on the force for very long by the looks of her. She wasn't from this city, or this state, or this country. They hadn't heard her speak yet, so they wouldn't expand their search into any databases where they might be able to identify her. That should slow things down enough for her at least.

She had nothing better to do for a while than to examine her wrists, finally freed of the chafing cuffs, and to think about this obstacle which had now come to slow their mission down. Yes, the painting had been removed from its post, but that wasn't all that needed to be done, was it? They had to disable it, and then… What if it wasn't enough?

Her glasses had not been returned to her, so they would either be logged into her possessions by one officer or another, or they would have been abandoned on the museum floor. Either way, she didn't have them, and for having worn them for hours now, she could feel the effect of not wearing them anymore. Her memories felt as though they threatened to drift away at any moment. She needed to concentrate, not to lose hold of any of them.

Mike was having the same problem in the room where they had left him, with the glaring difference in between them being that when they ran his prints, although he had no criminal record, they could still somehow identify him. This had been his city, had been ever since he'd come here for school when he'd left Lima. He was no thief, they'd have to see. He was a dancer, a teacher, a choreographer… He was going to need to come up with an excuse though, and right now all he had was that he had fallen asleep and woken up to find the museum had closed and he was still inside. That would never do.

"Michael Chang," a voice made him startle, and he looked up to find a man had walked into the room, carrying a stack of papers. "I am just dying to know what someone like you was doing, breaking into…"

"I didn't break in," he spoke; it was stronger than him, especially seeing as this was actually true. They had not broken in; they only meant to break out.

"Right, you just took the wife for a tour, several hours before opening?" the detective asked. Mike looked down to the ring on his hand. They thought Amy was his wife.

"I told you, I wasn't…"

Before he could go on, the door had opened again, and another detective walked in, escorting a woman in a suit, carrying a briefcase, and, to Mike's surprise, wearing those same glasses the Doctor had stolen to replicate.

"That'll be quite enough, thank you," she told the first detective. "Mr. Chang, please follow me."

"What is this?" the detective stood.

"My name is Lynn Evershaw, I am Mr. Chang's attorney, and this interrogation is over."

Mike didn't know how she'd known he was there, but he knew who must have sent her. At this point, he didn't think he should argue. Being out of the police's hands and being instead in those of the people likely responsible for this whole mess felt like a prudent thing, strange as it sounded.

As he left the interrogation room, he found Amy had also been sprung, by an equally bespectacled man. She looked just as confused and surprised as he did, and he was relieved to see she was attempting just as he did to keep these reactions under wraps. Neither of them spoke as they left the precinct, though they briefly skidded to a stop when they saw the black limousine waiting for them.

"Please, right this way," Miss Evershaw opened the door and stepped aside. Her associate didn't seem to have as sunny of a disposition as she did, and Mike and Amy did as they were told, much more so not to incur his wrath.

"Where are we going?" Amy finally allowed herself to speak after all four of them were seated and the car had driven off.

"Mr. Brown wishes to speak with you both," Miss Evershaw replied. "With any luck, your associates will grace us with their presence."

TO BE CONTINUED (TODAY)


	28. The Escaped

**"Ex Memoria"**

**28. The Escaped**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

It was hard enough to get anywhere when there was the constant concern of anyone being after them, but it didn't seem nearly as much of an issue when compared to having to deal with a distressed husband worried for his wife.

The Doctor had needed to rein Rory back in several times on their way to the TARDIS, but finally they made it to the blue police box, and the Doctor could have kissed it for how relieved he was to see his ship. Instead, he snapped his fingers and the doors opened in time for him to just about shove Rory inside before he could follow in and shut and lock the doors. When this was done, he'd breathed out with relief, sliding to sit on the ground.

"You just left her?" Rory's shout made him jump.

"Oh, look who's found his voice again," the Doctor forced himself to scramble back on his feet before Rory could try and get past him. "We've been through this, Rory," he stared him in the eyes. "It was necessary, and you would do well to understand this the same as your wife will have understood it."

"Well, I'm sorry if I can't be as trusting as she is that you'll just swoop in like a knight in armor… Doctor," Rory heaved.

"Says the Roman," the Doctor kept the same frown as the other man did. "You're the one who wants to swoop… in…" he tapped his chest for emphasis.

"She's my wife!"

"And you're her husband! Is this going to be the same issue every time, because frankly I don't care for it." Rory looked about to punch him in the face. "Oh, now I know that face, that's," the Doctor's finger hovered about Rory's face for a moment before leading him away from the doors. "We are going to find her again. In the meantime, she can take care of herself, you know she can." This seemed to knock some of the fight out of Rory.

"Of course she can, I… I didn't say she couldn't," he promised.

It was never established exactly how much Rory remembered at this point, from everything that had happened, his death, his coming back, the plastic Roman and all, but looking at him now, the Doctor saw the kind of sadness and worry that could only have come out of holding the woman he loved, dead in his arms, which Rory had done, briefly. He would never stop worrying. He would never stop doing everything in his power not to have to see Amy the way he'd done in that moment.

"Alright," the Doctor clapped his hand on the former centurion's shoulder; they were back on track. "Now, back at the museum…"

"I thought she was following us," Rory shook his head. "I wouldn't have gone if I didn't think that."

"But she wasn't behind us," the Doctor stated the obvious.

"She could still be back there, we…" Rory stopped, wondering if his suggestion to go back would be shot down one more time.

"She's not," the Doctor stated flat out. He could have misled Rory and told him that yes, possibly, Amy was still there, because it was where they needed to go, but he knew better, after the moment they'd just had. He needed to give it straight to Rory, let him decide to go where they needed to be more than where he wanted to be.

"How do you know?" Rory's gaze narrowed. The Doctor looked to the console.

"We were separated, the six of us, but I saw which way they were headed. Tina has the painting, she and Miss Moran Fiorentino will have found shelter, but Amy, and Mike…"

He didn't have to say it. Rory got the pieces in order.

"They've been arrested?" his fury threatened to surge again, and the Doctor held his hands out so he might stop again. "I know, I know, they'll be alright," he sighed, wringing his hands for lack of anything else to keep them busy. "What do we do now?"

"We go back, for Tina, for Gillian, for the painting."

"So we broke out of the museum, left Amy, and Mike, and Tina, and Gillian… so we could break back in? The guards will be on alert, the police…"

"Who said anything about breaking in?" the Doctor frowned to Rory.

"You did, you just…"

"I said no such thing!" the Doctor maintained. At Rory's perplexed face, he gestured around them, to indicate the TARDIS. "We did it the other way before," he explained, getting the ship going. Soon, they were off, leaving their landing space, on their route to the museum. "Time to try it another way."

When they had settled down again, Rory had looked to the Doctor as though to ask where they were. The Doctor turned the screen on, and Rory quickly recognized the place where they had hidden for several hours earlier that day, the one where Gillian Moran Fiorentino had taken cover as her mind unraveled.

"How do we find them?" Rory asked. It had taken them all long enough to reach the exhibit, he could imagine it would take them two or three times as long, now that the guards were on alert. In response, the TARDIS soon rang with a handful of sustained beeps. "What's that?"

"Look," the Doctor pointed to the screen again. The video feed had been replaced with a plan of the museum. They could see three small lights flashing to the rhythm of the beeps. "If Gillian is with Tina, and she has no glasses, then that'll be them," he indicated the lone light. It flitted about, just faintly enough that they could notice, as though Tina and her glasses were in motion.

"Then that's…" Rory's finger pointed to the other two dots, very much stationary in comparison to the first. "That'll be Amy's glasses and…"

"They must have lost them. Rory, I'm sure they're not…" the Doctor tried to reassure him, but even he couldn't help but wonder. "They're not here," he promised Rory and himself both.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	29. All In

**"Ex Memoria"**

**29. All In**

_Lima, Ohio – in the year 2002_

In the three days since her family had taken her to see the circus, Tina had carried the little pouch with her everywhere. It had originally held a shiny whistle on a string, which she'd won after playing a game, but already their old dog had gotten hold of it and chewed on it until Tina didn't even want to play with it anymore. But she still had the pouch, and by its still pristine condition, it might have been that she cared about this more than the prize inside. She had turned it into something to keep treasures in.

She'd so far gathered three pebbles with interesting shapes, and just now she was plucking a flower so she might put it inside and take with her wherever she went. So, naturally, there had come a gust of wind, and the flower had tugged its way out of her hand.

"No!" she'd gasped, running after it. The flower had spun in the air, once, twice, and then… a flash… and a woman was standing there, just managing to reach out her hand and get the flower before it could get away. Tina stopped, startled and relieved at the same time. She approached the woman with at least some caution, as she was a stranger and her parents had taught her better than that. "That's mine," she declared, pointing to the flower.

"So it is," the woman smiled, and she handed the flower over to the small girl.

"How did you do that?" she asked, dazzled. "Are you magic?"

"Not exactly," the woman replied, still smiling as she crouched before Tina. "But I can do special things, and because those things are special, I can only do them for important reasons, do you understand?" Tina nodded. "I can prove it to you, too."

"How?" Tina asked. The woman looked at her for a moment, then she nodded to the pouch dangling from her wrist.

"Can I see that?" the woman asked, and after a moment of hesitation, Tina handed it over. "This might be difficult for you, but I promise one day it will be worth it. First, why don't you put the flower inside?" Tina had been planning to do that anyway, so she did it, before watching the woman as she pulled the strings to close the pouch and then tied the strings into a neat bow. "I am going to take this with me when I go," she told Tina, and the girl gasped, suddenly uncertain. "I'll take good care of it, so good that it will look exactly the same when you see it again, alright?"

"Okay," Tina said, though it sounded almost like a question.

"One day," the woman started, and Tina got the impression that what she was saying was serious, so she listened carefully, "Someone will give it back to you, and when they do, they will have something very important to tell you. When they tell you, you have to know that they're telling the truth. Can you remember that for me?" Tina looked at the pouch, wondering how long it would be before she saw it again. What if she was really, really old by then? But the magic lady said it was important, and she kind of believed her, so…

"I will," she nodded.

X

_May 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

"And then she just disappeared. Maybe I'm just making it that way because of what they said, but I don't think so. I think it really was her… it was Miss Harrison," Tina finished telling Mike. "I mean… Gemma," she recalled what the others had told her.

"I think I remember you telling me about this thing once," he picked up the striped pouch, as much in awe as she'd been. He'd been to that circus, too, when he was little, he remembered the prize pouches, they looked just like this one, that appeared brand new even though the circus had been gone for years.

"The flower is still alive, like I just picked it. I didn't get that it could be anything else at the time, but if it had been ten years, then it would have died by now. That means it's real… she travelled in time, everything they said about this Doctor guy… Right?" It would have been hard for him to do anything but nod in agreement at this point, seeing the evidence before him.

"Hard to believe all that stuff can be real… Aliens, time travel…" he shook his head in amazement. 'But it is' was the unspoken conclusion to that sentence for both of them.

"So now what do we do?" Tina asked. Mike looked around, then nodded his head to the left. Tina looked where he'd pointed, and she saw them, the rest of the group, most of them at least, standing at a distance, pretending to be doing anything else but what they'd been doing before Mike had looked at them, which was to spy on the two of them, waiting to know how it would go.

"I guess we're supposed to help them now," he spoke with a half shrug.

"Yeah, but help them with what? They haven't really said…"

"I don't think they even know," Mike pointed out. Tina had gotten that impression, too. "I kind of want to find out," he then admitted, and Tina smirked.

"Yeah, me too." It was supposed to be important, that was what the magic woman… the one she now knew to be Miss Harrison, or Gemma, had said. It was hard for them to put into perspective exactly why it was important, but they wouldn't find out unless they cooperated, would they?

So, as the students were being directed to return to their buses, both Mike and Tina had rejoined their friends and, in whatever way they knew how, they told them that they were on board.

TO BE CONTINUED (TODAY)


	30. No More

**"Ex Memoria"**

**30. No More**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

It was a miracle neither of them had been crushed. Out of nowhere, there had been a strange sort of displacement in the air, and Tina had responded to this by pulling the still inert Gillian into the corner with her. Within seconds, the majority of the space in the room where they'd been hiding was filled with the blue box. The door opened, and there was the Doctor, peering down at them.

"Sorry, didn't keep you waiting too long, did we?" he asked, crouching when he saw Gillian.

"Rory?" he called back, and the man appeared. He saw Gillian, too, and the Doctor moved back to let him examine her.

"What happened?" he asked.

"She was working to get the canvas out of the frame. I gave her my gloves, but one of them ripped," Tina explained. She picked up the hand in question and showed it to Rory. "Is she going to be okay? I've checked her breathing, but she's not waking up and…"

"Help me get her inside," Rory told the Doctor, who didn't argue and instead went to assist Rory. As soon as they had the woman inside, he returned to Tina.

"You have the painting, yes? Let me see, I…" the Doctor looked around, until Tina looked at him and pointed to her side, to the abandoned canvas and to the mangled frame. The Doctor picked it up, inspected it, ran his sonic screwdriver over it, then put it down and looked to Tina, halfway between shocked and admiring. "You've stopped it." She smiled. "How did you…"

"Trial and error," she shrugged. "I called Chris, we figured it out together. It would have been nice to have two hands to work with…" she showed her hands, one still gloved and the other one bare. The Doctor beamed, pulling her into a hug. "Oh!" she laughed. "So is it over now?" she asked.

"Not quite, come on," he stood and helped her up. They went into the TARDIS, picking up the pieces of the frame and canvas, leaving no trace of their presence before the ship could take off once more and bring them out of the museum.

Both Rory and the Doctor were occupied, with one looking after Gillian and the other dealing with the take-off, so neither could see the brief look of relief that went away as Tina looked around the room.

"Where's Mike?" she asked. They stopped what they were doing, looking to one another before turning to her, and for a few all too real seconds, she'd feared the worst. "Where is he?" her voice raised, and the Doctor stepped toward her, his hands before himself.

"He's fine, as far as we know, but I'm afraid he and Amy were caught and arrested."

"Right…" Tina blinked. "I knew that," she recalled the sounds outside the room earlier. "Things just got crazy and I… I forgot. I didn't know who had been taken in or not, I… So what do we do about it?"

"Well, now that we have the two of you, and the painting has been taken care of, we will go and get them. We thought they might still be in the museum, but it was only these," he pointed to two pairs of glasses sitting on the console. They had retrieved them before going after Tina and Gillian, in case the immobile frames were still posed on faces, which they were not. As much as this was good news, in the sense that Amy and Mike were still alive and conscious somewhere, as far as they knew, it also meant they were unprotected, and this could turn into a bigger problem.

The TARDIS had landed near the precinct. At this point it was properly the middle of the night, but with everything that was happening, everything that was at stake, not one of them was showing any sign of fatigue. Instead, they had a plan.

Tina walked out of the ship, trying to put aside the mindset of having been on a time travelling space ship with an alien, running after a memory-sucking work of art, and tried to resettle herself as she had been only hours before, Tina Cohen-Chang, resident of Chicago, loving wife to one Mike Chang, and she walked into the precinct.

The man she spoke to, explaining how she hadn't heard from her husband for several hours and she was so very worried, took his name, ran it through the computer… and then gave her a pointed look before telling her to sit and wait. A few minutes later, a detective came along, informing her that her husband and an unidentified redheaded woman had been brought in after they were found inside the museum, but then before they could be properly interrogated, lawyers had come and sprung them out. They had no idea where either of them were now, but if she wished to file…

She didn't let him finish, instead standing and thanking him before exiting the precinct. She made sure she was not being followed before making for the ship.

Tina told the Doctor and Rory what she had been told, in particular the side comment the detective had made about the laywers' glasses. Now they knew where Amy and Mike were, and for once all of them were glad that they'd waited before going after the pair of them. Had they rushed after them, they might have missed this opportunity to get after the people responsible for this near catastrophe. Because even though they had stopped the painting, all it had achieved was to take out one source for this infection. There were still all those already infected, out there, passing it on. All they could hope for now was that this Mr. Brown, along with having this source infection, might also have a cure, somewhere in his offices.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	31. Clearing Out

**"Ex Memoria"**

**31. Clearing Out**

_Chicago, Illinois - in the year 2021_

There was no real feeling as though they were restrained in any way, but then the silent lawyer did have that look about him like it might not have been a good idea to try and deceive him. It was going to take some kind of distraction if they meant to get away. Luckily, there was one waiting for them on their way to see Mr. Brown.

When the elevator doors opened, it filled their ears with the kind of chatter which shouldn't have been present at this hour of night. Instead of an empty floor they found the employees milling about, glasses and all, as though some kind of last minute rush had taken over. It looked almost the way they always saw those scenes in movies and television, when a corrupt organization was busted and they were hurrying to pack up before the feds arrived.

There was no way to stop and consider whether or not this would be a bad idea, but Mike decided to go for it, taking hold of Amy's hand and pulling her away from the lawyers, who were busy dealing with the situation presented to them and didn't have an eye on them. Amy didn't argue on the move, instead taking over and pulling Mike in a different direction. She remembered the small room from her previous visit here; they would have a better vantage point.

"What do we do now?" Mike whispered.

"Well…" Amy looked out on the frenzied floor, observing the run around. "The glasses protected them, right? So why do they look so scared?"

"Maybe someone's coming?"

"Oh, someone's coming alright. The Doctor will find us in time, but they have no idea about him, so no… Look, some of them don't have their glasses anymore, but I think the other ones just haven't gotten around to it. I don't think they work anymore. It's like they responded to something specific, to the painting. We took it, so maybe the others destroyed it. They're as much at risk as anyone else, including us. They're not protected, and that terrifies them." She couldn't help but smile, knowing they'd levelled the playing field.

"I just want to make sure Tina's okay," Mike spoke, pacing as much as the small room could allow. He had his back to Amy when he spoke, and he couldn't see the way her face focused, taken with a thought, but he didn't have to. The thought had been tied on to a memory that was strong enough, unprotected as they were, to go on and leave her mind and enter Mike's. When it did, Mike stopped his pacing, suddenly grounded to the floor with revelation. "What…" he breathed, and Amy turned, seeing his face, dazed and a tiny bit smiling, and her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh, I… I shouldn't have been thinking about that, I…" His eyes were welling up, his smile asserting itself, and now that it was out there, she couldn't very well pretend, so she gave in and smiled, too. "When we were waiting before, in the museum, I took off my glasses for a couple seconds, and she'd done it, too, without realizing, and…" she shrugged. "She didn't want to tell you until after this was all over, so… maybe you can pretend you didn't get her memory from me."

"Right, I can… I can try that," Mike blinked, letting a few happy tears spill.

"Not with that face you won't," Amy dug her hands in her pocket for a fruitless search of a tissue. "So… congratulations then?"

"Yeah," he nodded, wiping at his face. He needed a moment, to settle not only the fact that he was about to be a father, but also the knowledge that it wasn't just Tina who was out there, somewhere he didn't know for sure, but their baby, too. "I think I have an idea," he told Amy.

"About what?" she asked.

"Slowing them down," he nodded out to the frenzied men and women. "Until the others get here."

"Right, okay, how do we do that?"

"Can you show me how you did that thing, when you sent your memories to Rory, on purpose?"

"I think so," she shrugged.

"Right, so you and me, we'll overload them with extreme memories, anything we've got. You saw what it did to all of us, when we had strong enough memories thrown at us. We couldn't help but give in to them. Anything that's strong, for better or for worse."

"That could work," Amy agreed. "Only one thing, we don't know when the Doctor will come." Even as she said it, she knew that if she knew him the way she did, then the answer was clear… He would come right when they needed him the most. "Alright, I'm in. But carefully," she instructed, and Mike nodded.

It was hard to figure out where to start. Once Amy had explained what he needed to do, Mike was in the same place as she was: what were they willing to sacrifice on to these people? In theory they knew they would get it all back in the end, but how could they be sure? They could be giving away something they were meant to cherish.

But then they knew it was their only card to play, so they did what they had to do, and slowly but surely it started to work. Suddenly one bespectacled employee or another would drop what they were doing and begin to laugh, or cry, or just sit with a dopey grin on their face. Amy and Mike were relentless, and their energy crashed like a wave. It was not without consequences.

The more they gave, they also got. The joy and sadness they gave now meant that they received the anxiety from the employees. It was easier at first to push it down and focus on hitting more people, but as the seconds and minutes went by, it was harder to dig out the memories worth passing on when the ones they'd gotten in return were weighing down on top of the heap. If they had to go on much longer, they would be crushed underneath.

TO BE CONTINUED (TODAY)


	32. Trinity

**"Ex Memoria"**

**32. Trinity**

_Chicago, Illinois – in the year 2021_

They'd anticipated more resistance than they got as they arrived at the building and made to enter. They had assumed they would need some form of excuse to get through without finding themselves escorted before Mr. Brown. Instead they came upon a security guard who looked so very delighted about absolutely nothing. He sat in his seat, and he paid them no mind as they walked past him. The Doctor could see something had happened, to him and to every other individual they came across, and he, like the others behind him, was left with two options as to what they'd find in those offices: Either this would be the work of Amy and Mike, somehow, or they would be as helpless as the rest.

It turned out to be a bit of both. A quick walk around the floor of laughs and wails, they found the pair of them, huddled in a corner, trembling, muttering.

"Mike…" Tina gasped.

"Amy?" Rory moved toward her.

"Don't get too close," the Doctor warned. "You know what to do," he nodded, looking to the last of their group, who had no spouse to run to. Gillian still looked like someone who was on the tail end of a headache, but she was conscious again, and lucid. The only mark remaining of her face off with the frame was the bandage that covered the welt, likely a scar she'd keep throughout her life.

It was the second time in a very short time that he had come on to a scene, expecting that he'd be needed to achieve something, only to realize it had already been dealt with. For sure, what they had done after leaving the precinct and before coming here was something big, but as far as he could tell, everything here was all but taken care of. He only needed to do one more thing.

"Mr. Brown, hello," he walked into the man's office, finding him sat on the ground, crying. "Hello…" the Doctor frowned, uncertain how to respond. But the man heard his voice and he looked up.

"You came back," Mr. Brown spoke, surprised.

"Yes…" the Doctor hesitated. "Yes, I did."

"I waited for you, I did. I packed, and I dressed, and I sat and waited… But you didn't come," he sniffled like he hated that he was crying, and something in his face made the Doctor realize what it was he was facing. This was Mr. Brown with a new memory… and he knew who it belonged to.

"That is not you, sir. This memory belongs to a little girl, to Amelia Pond. You are not a small Scottish girl, are you? I need to speak to Mr. Brown," he looked him in the eye. The man frowned, sniffled again.

"What did you do?"

"Oh, but so many things," the Doctor bowed his head. "For starters, the painting, or rather the frame, has been dealt with. But you'll know all about that by now. Also, I have figured out the way to reverse what you've done. Two words. Trinity Wells."

"That woman," Brown frowned; he knew of her, of course, and all too well.

"At this very moment, Ms. Wells has taken to the air, and she is telling her many viewers that all order has been restored at the museum. A simple message, yes, and absolutely true, but it's more than that. I've imbued Trinity Wells with the ability to pass on our cure. All who will hear it will pass it on as well, undoing all that was done. Before you know it, all those memories which were taken and moved about will be returned where they belong, and all this will be nothing but… well, a memory."

"Raggedy man?" Brown's head tilted. It angered the Doctor more than he'd thought it would, and he hurried into a crouch in front of the man.

"You don't get to call me that. You should count yourself lucky to have a memory like that inside your head, even for an instant, and even for how… unhappy of a memory as it is. You don't deserve her… it…" he corrected himself, just as Mr. Brown's hands reached up and clamped on either side of his face, locking him in place.

"Maybe not," he agreed, while the Doctor tried and failed to free himself. "Now I don't presume to know much of who you are, Doctor, but from what I've seen, and what's in my head now, I dare say getting a peek of your memories would be worth the trip indeed, while I still can."

"Oh, but you wouldn't!" the Doctor still struggled. "I'll admit, I have seen a lot for as long as I've lived, and believe you me, that is a mouthful right there, several mouths, and some of it has been fantastic, yes… Molto bene, I would have said once… I have seen darkness, too, so… so much… All of it, the good and the bad, I would never, in any number of years, let you get your hands on them. I am them as they are me, and you, sir…" he focused himself, "… you are not. So here's a little something for you to hold on to, until all is good… and… sorted."

Brown let go as suddenly as he'd grabbed on, and the Doctor fell away, hurrying to move out of reach. Inside the man's head, he knew, would now rage the confusion and the fear that Gillian Moran Fiorentino had lived with, hidden away as she was. The Doctor had taken it away from her, and it only seemed fair that, for a time, until it became harmless again, it should reside in the head of the one who had caused it to come about. He left Mr. Brown to cower and whimper in his office, while he went and found Amy, and Rory, and Mike and Tina.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	33. The Ride Back

**"Ex Memoria"**

**33. The Ride Back**

_May 2012 - Lima, Ohio_

The activities of the day had not left much of an impression on a great deal of the students present there, but much less when it came to the majority of the Glee Club, who had been too busy chasing after Mike and Tina. It was a good thing at least that it had not been in vain.

Now sitting on the bus, they were rolling back to the school parking lot where they had come aboard that morning. They had worked as cleverly as they could in order to get themselves the back of the bus on their own, hoping no one would take notice, especially those two in their group who had yet to be brought into the loop. It was hardly time to have either of them thinking that they were going behind her back.

"So you've met him? You've actually met him?" Mike asked the others. Now that he believed it, he had to know. They shared a look. They might as well give them the rest of it.

While Sam kept watch to make sure no one was listening, they had told as much as they thought to allow themselves, to leave time for the others to speak, too. Quinn talked about the circus, Puck about his ancestors and descendants. Sugar gave her brief account, while Santana and Brittany spoke of the cat people and the scientist. Mercedes told them about her jumps in time, and this had led to the revelation of the Doctor's multiple incarnations, and went right into Artie and the one female incarnation he had met... along with Gemma Lucas.

"She's here... because of the Doctor?" Tina asked, and they nodded. "But why?"

She couldn't help but look down at the pouch in her lap. Inside were three stones and a freshly plucked flower... Fresh ten years ago but fresh today, too. It was no real trick. It had been transported in time, but to her it still felt as though the little thing had lived a remarkably long life... And now it was going to end, it would die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Well, we don't know, do we?" Santana frowned.

"She hasn't told us. She promises that she'll tell us eventually, but she keeps a tight leash on that information," Quinn added.

"We don't even know all that much about her," Mercedes pointed out.

"She wouldn't even tell Artie it was really her at first," Puck jumped in. "Pretended like she had no idea."

"Yeah, but I get it," Artie made sure to clarify. "She wouldn't be so secretive if it wasn't so important." Sugar nodded in firm agreement.

"How do we know?" Mercedes spoke up, and now it was Santana who nodded along. "I mean I want to believe her as much as anybody else, but we don't really know who she is, do we?"

"She's from the future, I don't think she's supposed to say," Blaine piped in. "Like she could change something if she talks."

"What could she have that might change anything here though?" Kurt turned to his boyfriend. "This is Lima, Ohio... She travels in time and space with an alien."

"Well, so did they," Blaine countered, looking to Sugar, Puck, Artie, Quinn, Mercedes, Santana, Brittany... He would not see the slightest twitch that took to Kurt's eye at this. "We don't know who she is or where she came from, when she came from."

"She's good at lying, we know that," Puck nodded.

"She's not a liar!"

Sugar's outburst was louder than even she'd meant for it to be, and she shrank back, seeing not only the rest of their group but those in the nearest seats had turned to look her way. She had very little time to consider her options, but she at least had the presence of mind that, if she didn't say anything, she might be condemning herself more than if she found a quick way to correct herself. So she cleared her throat and sat forward.

"It's like Artie said, she's keeping things to herself for a reason. I personally really believe that. I trust her, and my... my uncle always said you either trust someone or you don't, there's no halfway," she breathed.

Toh was not her uncle... He was not her family at all, not in that way, but she would have been glad if he was, on any day. He had always counselled her well, and if she only had that to remember him by, then she would be satisfied.

At the very least, it seemed to knock some sense into the others, and made them forget her outburst. It really was the truth that, for what they knew and didn't know, they had put their trust in Gemma Lucas, and they would continue to.

"There's all of us who know now, and just two who don't. If we're all going to know in the end, then it has to mean we're pretty close, doesn't it?" Brittany spoke first, and it got her a nod from each of the others.

It had been a long day, and everyone was glad to go home at last. They had done what they'd set out to do, and they would rest gladly, waiting to discover what they were meant to do next. Each one of them had their own personal view on where they stood in this situation and what they felt with regards to the continuation of it all. The only thing they might have agreed on was that they would be glad when they reached the part where they could be told the truth, and they didn't have to walk around like they were playing a game with blindfolds on.

TO BE CONTINUED (TODAY)


	34. One to One

**"Ex Memoria"**

**34. One to One**

_Inside the TARDIS_

Neither Amy nor Mike really remembered going back to the TARDIS. They had a vague recollection of being in those offices, passing their memories on to others, and then… But now they were sitting there, on the ground, the pulsing sounds of the console to soothe them, and their spouses at their sides.

"Rory?" Amy blinked, and he breathed, taking her hand in his own and kissing it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, feeling her forehead with his free hand. Amy leaned into the touch, nodding. "I was so worried, when we found you," he went on, and Amy gave him a look, letting him know with no words how glad she was to see him again and to know him.

"I think… my memories are coming back to me," she took a moment as though she could somehow feel the contents of her own brain.

"They are," Rory promised her. "The Doctor figured out a cure, he's got it spreading out now. I just passed it on to you."

"Well that was very kind of you," she smiled.

"Oh, well, you know me," he smiled back, and she kissed him.

"Yes, I do know you, Rory Williams." She had sacrificed so many memories up in the office, but not one of them had been the knowledge of how much she loved this man sitting by her side.

All the same, Mike had clung to the memory of Tina, and it might have saved him as much as Rory's memory had saved Amy. When he started being aware again, sitting on the TARDIS floor, suddenly he could see her, his wife sitting by his side, and though the memories he had gained were leaving him and being replaced for the ones that had always been his, he did remember one thing, and he looked into Tina's face, feeling the emotions rising from his heart into his throat again.

"We're having a baby?" he asked, and Tina was naturally surprised to know that he'd found out, but she didn't rest on it too long, instead smiling and nodding at him. He got his arms around her and held her near, kissing the top of her head when he felt her arms close around him, too.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," she lamented when they'd pulled back to see into the other's face.

"Well, it was," he pointed it, and she laughed.

"Yeah, must have been," she agreed. He would tell her the whole story, of how he'd gotten the memory from Amy while they were hiding.

"Welcome back you two!" the Doctor came around to crouch before them, reaching to tap Amy's shoulder and then Mike's, both times with a great smile on his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Headache, dizziness," Amy reported, and Mike was the same.

"Good, perfectly normal. Your memories are being sorted out, and in no time, all will be right as rain… I like that expression, don't you?" he asked the two couples before getting back on track. "So, as they may have told you already, everything is on its way to returning as it should be. The frame has been disabled, destroyed, really. The painting, as unremarkable as it's become, has been given a new frame, and both have been returned to their original post on the museum wall, thanks to Gillian. Wouldn't you know, when her boss realized a painting was missing and she came along as the hero of the piece, he agreed to rehire her, and she wouldn't agree to a thing unless Chris could come back as well, so there's another thing sorted!"

"What time is it now?" Mike blinked, wondering. The Doctor stood and went to open the door.

"Sunrise, a brand new day. All of you will need to get some rest now, especially you," he pointed to Tina with a knowing smile. Through the open door, they could see the TARDIS had been set down just in front of their home. All they had to do was get out, walk up the steps, and open the door.

"Then it's really over," Mike said then, and only he and Tina would know how much that sentence had a different meaning for them than it did for the Doctor and his companions. To those three, it meant that the Changs' adventure with them was done, and they would go home to their regular lives. To Mike and to Tina though, there was more to it. It wasn't just this adventure ending but a saga that had lasted, between this, and nine years ago at school, and ten years before that in Tina's yard, just nearly twenty years. After they left the ship, and the Doctor, and Amy and Rory, it would all be over. They'd been living so long with expectations of what would come next that to find themselves on this end, where they knew there would be no next step, felt so very strange.

"We couldn't have done it without you," the Doctor told them, the only reassurance he could give them, but well received and well appreciated.

Tina had insisted that they should all come inside and get something to eat, as all of their previous meals were far behind them. It felt like a much nicer way to part than to step off the ship and have the door closed in their face. But eventually the Doctor, Amy, and Rory did leave, walking out of the house and back into the TARDIS. Mike and Tina stayed at the door, needing to watch as the blue box disappeared from before their eyes for the last time.

When it was gone, they went back inside, knowing that just as this one long adventure was ending, another one was only beginning. They couldn't wait for the day when they would be able to tell their little son or daughter about wild rides in space with the alien with the bow tie.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	35. In Pocket

**"Ex Memoria"**

**35. In Pocket**

_London, England – in the year 1958_

Amy and Rory had asked the Doctor if they might be taken home for a day or two, without anyone knowing, just so they might rest and relax after their very long day dealing with the museum situation. They needed time to find who they were again, and that was not going to happen on the TARDIS. The Doctor had hesitated some, but eventually he had relented. He was going to take them home.

So when they opened the door and found themselves in what definitely looked like London but not at all in the correct time, there was some amount of arguing at first, but eventually the exhaustion had won out, and the Doctor had orchestrated them a place to stay.

He'd tried to sit and rest his eyes and all that, too, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, so eventually he'd gotten up and moved to the window. How many times he'd been to this city, how many ways he'd known it, and it still surprised him… even now.

He'd spent far too much time already looking for her, spotting her out of the blue, not to recognize her when he saw her. Down on street level, she was sitting at a table outside a restaurant, the picture of casual dining. Of course it couldn't be coincidence that she was there, which would mean she was there to see him. The fact that their little game had progressed from the point where she would follow him in shadows, unknown and unseen, to where they were now, with her so casually waiting, knowing he'd see her and come to her, was possibly unsettling.

Even then, he had approached her as though he meant to sneak up on her, unseen… right until he exited the hotel and found that she had changed seats, the better to be facing the door through which he'd appear. When he stopped, realizing this, she held up her glass to him with a smile. He frowned, walking across the street and taking the seat she'd only just vacated.

"Hungry?" she asked, offering her plate. The Doctor didn't reach. "Look, I know what I must look like to you. You're probably not all that happy to see me most of the time, and well I can live with that."

"I never said I wasn't… Doesn't mean I am, either. How could I have any opinion at all if I don't know who you are, why you're here…"

"I realize that," she nodded. "Really, I do."

"Why are you here?" he cut to the chase.

"I just… I wanted to know how everything turned out in Chicago," she told him. She would have liked to say she had managed not to show her hand in any way with this statement, but if she could hear the mild concern in her voice, then surely the Doctor had to have heard it, too. She looked up at him, but his face was not victorious, nor had she expected it to be. He wouldn't rub it in, though he would still make note of it.

"Turned out as well as one could hope," he answered her. "At least, if you're not Mr. Brown. The infection is gone, all memories have been returned to their rightful owners. The worst anyone thought to have happened was that there was a gas leak at the museum. Most people didn't understand what they were going through, as is generally the case. In a matter of days, it was as though none of it had happened." The woman sitting across from him took this all in with a continual nod.

"Good, that's good," she declared. The Doctor leaned back in his chair for a moment before leaning forward.

"Is it?" he asked, and she looked at him. "Why, exactly?"

"I don't understand," she sat up, looking at him like she knew she had to, in order to sound credible.

"Oh, but you do," he pointed at her face. "You could have come at any time and seen for yourself how things had turned out in Chicago, but you didn't. You waited until we'd gone, which tells me you knew exactly the kind of risk you'd run if you set foot in that city at that precise time, and you weren't going to risk it, no, not a girl as smart as you, is that it?" She said nothing. "But you care, I can see that, too. So what was it?" he asked.

"You don't honestly expect me to tell you that, do you?" she kept a strong face.

"No, maybe not, but then it's always worth a try, isn't it?" he shrugged. They were quiet for a moment, and the Doctor watched as his shimmer girl picked at a scratch on the table. "There's something else?"

"You could call it that," she looked around before looking back at him. "Just thought I'd let you know… I know you've been wondering about all this, why I've been following you… obviously," she bowed her head, acknowledging their conversation. "It will all become clear someday, I promise."

"And this day…" he asked.

"It'll come, soon," she promised. "As relative as 'soon' might sound," she added. "I never really know with you, do I?" He shook his head in agreement. "I have to go now," she stood, and he remained seated.

"Just like that?"

"You have ways to track me and follow me," she held up her wrist, where the vortex manipulator was strapped on. "You know it, and I know it. But you've never done it, and it's not like I haven't given you the chance the last few times I've come to you. So yes, just like that, because no matter how much some part of you will not want to trust me, there's a bigger part that understands the big picture, so you do. See you around, Doctor." And she was gone.

TO BE CONCLUDED (TODAY)


	36. Existential

**"Ex Memoria"**

**36. Existential**

_May 2012 – Lima, Ohio_

She would have wanted nothing more than to share her concerns with the Doctor, to ask him about certain things, but she couldn't do it, and not just because the version of the Doctor she'd been sitting across from would have had no idea what she was going on about because he hadn't lived it yet. She had been doing well enough at this point, establishing the distance between them, for as long as it was required. But it was just as she'd said… it was all coming to an end, sooner than later.

By the time she'd walked into her building and started up to her floor, she was exhausted, and all she wanted was to crash face first into her bed. Only she got to her door and found a post-it note stuck to it, waiting for her. She reached up and tugged it free as she read.

_Good evening, field tripper. There's dinner waiting for you at my place. I figured you'd be too tired to make anything but cereal. No need to bring anything but yourself. – Walter._

She let out a breath, a smile freeing itself and rising from her lips and over her face. It was still lingering there when she made it to his door and gave a knock. Seconds later, the door opened, and her smile resurged. "Hey…" he greeted her.

"Hey," she greeted back, leaning in to kiss him. "I should never have told you the cereal thing."

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it," he promised, stepping aside for her to come in. "But what's the point of being able to cook if there's no one there to enjoy it."

"Good man," she agreed, tapping his arm before moving to the table. Within a minute, she was served a plate of pasta. "Next thing you'll tell me is you made these from scratch?" she teased, but then seeing the sheepish look on his face, "That's not fair," she tried to tease him, but one whiff of the food and she was much more interested in eating it all.

"What, my mother's Italian, she taught me," he explained, bringing his own plate. "Don't get used to it though, this is special occasions food, like when your girlfriend's had a really long day."

"Oh, she has," Gemma agreed, digging in.

"Does she want to tell me about it?"

"Depends, can she stop talking in the third person?"

"She can."

Gemma told Walter about the field trip, which was all in all fairly standard. It was everything else that happened around it that was the really interesting part. She told him about Sugar coming to talk to her in the morning, about how she'd watched from afar as the kids zoomed from one side to the other, in smaller groups and then all together, all in their efforts to bring Mike and Tina into the fold. She told him how they'd been struggling, and in the end how she'd made a quick trip to the past to give Tina a good enough reason to believe what they'd tell her. It was a shortcut, but it had worked well enough. Then she had been relieved to find Mike and Tina had been brought into their circle, and her hopes had been met.

"Pretty sure they were talking about me on the ride home," she went on.

"Is that good or bad?" Walter asked. She didn't reply right away, instead digging her fork into one, and two, and three of the little stuffed bites and bringing them to her mouth to chew gladly. "Gemma?" She still wouldn't speak, and it brought out that concerned look on his face she could sense without even looking at him. "Does it have anything to do with that letter you got this morning?" Now she looked at him, and after she'd swallowed, she shook her head.

"No, I… Not really."

"Then what is it?" he asked. She hesitated, but not in the way she'd had before; she just needed the right words.

"You've been so patient with me," she started. "I know I've told you a lot of things, more than anyone else here, and I've always known I could trust you with those, but then there are things I still haven't told you about, things I couldn't say, not even to you."

"I get it, you don't have to say anything," he promised.

"I know," she smiled. "That's one of the things I love the most about you," she added, and when his lips spread into a grin, she laughed.

"What?" he asked.

"Spinach," she pointed to her teeth, and the tip of his tongue went poking at his teeth, searching, before he turned his head away and went in with his fingers. After a few seconds, he turned back to her. "You're good," she assured him. It had lightened the mood, only a little but plenty enough for her. With a sigh, she put her fork down and sat up. "I'm worried… if they keep talking about me. I mean I'm sure they've done it before, but if they keep at it… then they might piece some things together. They might find out some things, even if it's only something they think is real, it could still be dangerous."

"This really scares you, doesn't it?" he asked, though it was more of a realization of fact. She gave a small nod, and he reached for her hand. "Why?"

"In that school, I'm Ginny Harrison," she said at first, as though he would understand, but he shrugged, lost. "I'm from the future, Walter. I don't exist here, so why couldn't I just go by my real name?" She paused, sighing. "It's not for their benefit that I have to hide it. Well, it is, part of it. But it's not them I'm worried about finding out the truth, it's other people, the ones we're supposed to face eventually. If it got out there, who I am and where I came from, it would only be a matter of time before they knew the rest… It could wreck a lot of things… including my birth."

THE END

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A/N: Next installment, **_"The Theater, The Theatre"_ **begins tomorrow!


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